Page 90 of Frost and Death
The two women look up, hesitating. They glance at Dorit, who adds, “She is nice, I promise.”
Dorit’s words should not have so much effect on me, but they do. I smile my gratitude at her kindness as the two women brush off their cooking aprons.
The blonde cook steps forward, taking my hand and beaming. “I am Cordelia, Your Majesty. It is an honor to serve you.”
I extend my gratitude. “If you should ever feel comfortable, you may call me Tove.”
Cordelia’s features soften as if sunlight itself would illuminate around her.
The other cook approaches, and I greet her before she can introduce herself. “You must be Ophelia. Please know the offer is the same for you as well.”
She nods, looking breathless and full of anxiety.
Glancing at Dorit, I say to them, “Dorit has said wonderful things about your food that I can attest to myself since myarrival. I wanted to meet and personally thank you for providing such delicious meals.”
They grin, Ophelia resting her hand at the small of Cordelia’s back. Pure love shines between them, and they are so precious my heart wants to burst.
Ophelia faces me and Dorit. “Would you like to have some of the rolls we made?”
“Do you also have wine?” Dorit asks, and I salivate at the thought.
Cordelia snickers. “When do we not?”
Dorit claps quickly, reaching for the basket of rolls as Ophelia fetches cups and refreshment.
A small dining table is on the opposite side of the kitchen, and after I take two rolls, I join the women.
The liquid hitting each glass fills the void, and I quietly take a few bites, trying to mask my distaste for Palaena’s bitter alcohol. Nostalgia for sweet wine has me focusing more on food, listening to the three women converse with one another about fellow staff members, bustling news from the market in town, zoning in and out when their discussions drift to gossip.
My eyebrow lifts in question when they talk about the staff members who ran away when Jerrick and I first arrived.
Not remembering my arrival in Palaena, I almost choke on my bread when Dorit says, “I heard that Jerrick threatened anyone who mentioned or questioned his arrival back home.”
“Hethreatenedhis own people?” I ask, and Dorit nods.
My brows pinch in confusion as to how she heard this information.
“One of the stable hands was ordered to tell every staff member of the king’s order,” Cordelia adds.
Ophelia agrees as if the order remains fresh.
No wonder they looked afraid of me and filled with worry when I showed up in the kitchens. Here I thought it was due tomy magic’s reputation, but part of me senses their worries were based on what their own king threatened to do.
“Wh-What did he say?” I ask with trepidation, wondering how dangerous Jerrick could be.
A thrill flashes in Dorit’s eyes, as if this is a ghost story rather than a possible end to her own life. “He said, ‘If any staff member speaks ill of our new guest, I will end their life quicker than they will know their next heartbeat.’ I’ve never seen him so tense!”
Shock still widens my eyes at the thought of a ruler intentionally killing his people.
Dorit attempts to brush off my own fears. “Relax, the king won’t kill anyone.”
I tilt my head, knowing very well he killed one of my priests in Axidoria. Dorit was there when he admitted it. So why is she dismissing his demand and claiming it to be a bluff?
“You know this how?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Jonas.”
I pinch my brows. As if naming the king’s brother is enough to convince me that Jerrick is not a ruthless ruler.
