Page 16 of Thief of Roses
She spied the doors to the larder and the buttery, the former which she had inspected and cleaned in her first days there, the latter which had not opened for her at all.She glanced at him over her shoulder.
“You do not happen to have food storage anywhere I haven’t seen, do you?”
“Woldest thou lyke to rephrase thy questionne?”The corner of his mouth quirked up.“Y know not all that whyche thou hast seen.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Aye, Y know.”His expression sobered.“Yet here, yf thou speakest a neede or ynquyrie, thou must be precyse yn wordage.‘Tis not always kyndlie, the Magyck here.”
“Ah, yes,”she agreed, realization dawning on her.“I know that the Magic brings the food,”she waved towards her breakfast platter that sat neglected on the long work table,“but I know magic can dry up.Do you keep food stores?If so, may I be taken to see them?”
“Thy mete ys magycked ynto exystence.”He crossed to the buttery via the other side of the table from her, his hooves making that unnatural sound on the stones.“Y gather or hunt for my mete.”
She canted her head and teased,“Do you not like the food here?”
She thought he would be amused at her question but instead, he paused at the door, his brows drawn low.He stared at the door for a long moment before he turned his attention back to her.His gaze did not meet hers.“Y can do naught for myself,”he admitted.“Thy mete ys for thy nourishmente.Thy brush ys for thy hair.Thy clothes art for thy drefsyng.Thy jars wilt be for thy use.”
“I suppose you made your trousers then.”
“Y can do naught for myself.Y can but ask,”he explained.“Yf mine ynquyrie ys granted, thanne such pryce ys oft too great.”
“You have to bargain if it’s for you.”She worried her lip with her teeth.
“And bargayn dearlie.”
“How do you bargain with the Magic?”
She could tell he was thinking, weighing the wisdom of answering.The moments rushed by in the space of his silence.
“Y can think of no way to explayn yt.”
She accepted this answer.Although unsatisfying, he offered none of the insulting responses for which she braced herself, responses to the effect that it would be beyond her comprehension or outright lies.In appreciation for his honesty, she acted upon a thought she had while his silence reigned.
“I will never be able to finish this all on my own.”She grabbed her breakfast platter and brought it to the end of the long table closest to where he stood at the buttery door.“Let us wait on the food stores.I started the morning project too eager to give much time to break my fast.Would you help me finish it?”
The confusion and consternation that passed over his face might have caused her to chuckle if it had not been so disconcerting to think that such a small gesture befuddled him.
“Thou art offeryng to share thy mete?Of thy own free wyll?”His hand dropped away from the door handle.
She settled on the bench, her legs on the outside of it as she waited for him either to join her or leave.She chided herself for being a foolish madwoman.Who encouraged the Fir’Darl to stay in their company?Maybe she lay dying out in the storm and all this had been a fevered dream just before her final oblivion.Her posterior ached too much on the unyielding bench beneath her to believe her experiences only a fantasy.Her imagination lacked such thorough attention to detail.
“I said as much,”she said.
“Thou must speak thy consent playnlie.”
If he could do nothing for himself, then it made sense that she needed to allow him to partake of the Magic that had been allotted for her.
“I, your Rivan guest, do hereby invite and include you to the informal ritual that is my meal, to keep company with me and to share my food when you wish.I offer this by choice, without aid or coercion.”She raised her brow at him.“Will that do?”
His eyes darted around as if he awaited an answer from another.After a moment, he redirected his attention back to her.
“Y thynk that yt myght.”He inched around the table as if trying not to startle her.He pulled the bench out to accommodate his larger stature but did not sit.“Thou art certeyn?”
“Sit,”she insisted,“before I throw food at you for vexing me.”
He did as she commanded and sat.He folded his hands on the table where she might see them.The muscles in his neck twitched.“Thy vyttles mayeth turn to ashes whylst Y attempt to consume them.”
“And then we’ll know,”she said.“You mentioned that you hunt.Do you only eat meat?I recommend the cheese.Dairy is such a luxury that I enjoy it most.But if no dairy, try the sausages.”She froze.“You don’t mind it being cooked, do you?I’m afraid that’s all I get served.”
