Marabella visits Castle Mirador.
The next morning
most of the other guests, including Josef, slept in. Marabella rose early.
Prince Merc had entertained her at the gala. He was interesting and kind. He
told her that the Moorcat village was a good day’s ride going around the lake. She
dressed in her hunting clothes, grabbed her heavy cloak, and stole down to the
kitchen. As she reached for a biscuit from the tray warming on top of the oven
she was struck from behind with a broom.
“Hands to
yourself, sneak-thief!” The rotund cook brandished the broom like a sword. She
raised it for another blow.
“How dare you
strike an honored guest!” Princess Celeste barked from the doorway. “I’ll have
you flogged.”
The cook froze.
The color drained from her face as she dropped swiftly to her knees. “Mercy,
your Grace. I meant no…”
“Silence.”
Celeste hissed.
Marabella rushed
to put herself between the enraged Princess and the poor cook. “Oh good morn
Princess Celeste. Please don’t misunderstand. Cook wasn’t being disrespectful.
She was just teasing me. We’re great friends.” She helped the portly woman to
her feet as she spoke. “Cook is helping me get provisions for my excursion. I’m
going to the Moorcat Village today.”
The Princess
softened, distracted from her ire. “Please extend an invitation to each of the
clans. They are, of course, welcome to attend the festivities here at the
castle.”
“I’d be happy to,
Princess.” Marabella breathed a sigh of relief.
Celeste glared at
the cook. “You are inappropriately familiar with our guest.”
Again, Marabella
intervened. “That’s my fault, Princess. Being from Common Valley, I’m afraid I
am more comfortable with your staff than most of the nobles.”
“Familiar or not,
it is not her place to deny you anything. And to accuse you of thievery, even
in jest, is a serious offense.” Celeste glowered at the cook with every word.
“An unfortunate
turn of phrase, your Grace.” Marabella placed her arm protectively around the
shoulder of the quivering cook. “Cook has made me feel very welcomed here.
Thank you, Princess.”
The cook managed
a smile at Marabella. “I didn’t want you taking old rolls from last night when
I have fresh hot biscuits coming out of the oven in a wink.”
Marabella rubbed
her hands together, still addressing the Princess. “I do so love her hot
biscuits. Would you join me for one right out of the oven?”
“No thank you. I
must breakfast with the Queen this morning. Enjoy your excursion.” The Princess
nodded to Marabella before ascending the stairs out of the kitchen.
Cook blew a sigh
of relief as the Princess disappeared up the steps. She took Marabella’s hand
executing a perfect curtsey. “I am in your debt, my Lady. Our Princess is,” she
paused, searching for the appropriate language, “strict about castle protocol.”
She dropped Marabella’s hand looking at the floor. “I am sorry about the broom.
I didn’t realize you were a guest.”
Marabella
laughed. “It’s alright. I’m Marabella, by the way.”
“I suppose I
should know your name since we are such great friends.” Cook relaxed. “They
just call me Cook but my name is Essmae.”
“Essmae. Lovely
name.” Marabella sniffed. “I smell your biscuits, Essmae.”
The portly woman
moved with surprising speed, grabbing a pot holder and wrenching open the large
brick oven in one swift motion. “Perfect.” Essmae placed the huge pan on a
table to the side, brushing the biscuit tops with melted butter from a crock
near the ovens. She presented one to Marabella on a small plate.
Marabella winked at her new friend. “Got any figs?”
