29. Chapter 27 Arden

Chapter twenty-nine

Chapter 27: Arden

U rsa opens the door to the kitchens and places a hand at the small of my back, gently ushering me inside. "You'll find anything you could possibly need in here. All of your ingredients have been properly stored and the kitchen staff will fetch them for you as you need. You're also, under no circumstances, allowed to cut your own ingredients. Prince Camus threatened to have my job if your injury worsened.

"Good luck. The Queen is picky. My only small bit of advice is that you make enough food for multiple courses. You may use ingredients from the kitchen to aid your cooking, but the bulk of it has to be from the food you collected. You have all day, and there are temperature perfecting dishes for you to put your food in once you're done. The food will never dry out, and never get soggy. That should save you some heartache."

Ursa leaves without waiting for a response, and looking a little green around the gills. I frown after her, then take in the enormous kitchen and its occupants. There are several people scurrying around in beige shirts, and dark blue pants. Then there's one man dressed in all black, standing tall with his hands clasped behind his back. His nearly-black eyes are boring into me.

He looks a lot like Solina. So much so that I wonder if one of her parents produced a bastard. But it would be rude for me to ask that, now.

"So how do I cook a heart?" I ask him with a small smile. "I can cook an incredible ribeye. Is that the same thing?"

"I was instructed to help you find, cut, and carry things–flip a pancake or sift some flour if necessary–but I'm not supposed to tell you anything or help you otherwise. So give me directions and I'll follow them. Other than that, I'll be silent."

"Look…what's your name?"

"Sterlyn."

"Look, Sterlyn, this is a matter of life and death for me. I'm not asking you to cook it for me. Just…tell me what ingredients work with it."

He raises an eyebrow at me but refuses to speak further. I roll my eyes and dash to the door. I rip it open and stick my head into the corridor, looking both ways for Ursa, but she's gone.

I stomp back over to the chef and gingerly cross my arms over my chest. "I need someone to fetch Prince Camus for me."

"He's not allowed in here."

Doing everything in my power to not give away how much I'm panicking, I snap, "I don't need him to come into the kitchen. I need an escort. Because this castle is a freaking maze."

"Where do you want to go?"

"I need to go to the library," I say.

"Whatever for?" he asks with a laugh.

"Cookbooks. Certainly there's got to be a book with recipes somewhere in that damned room."

When I was living in the earth realm, I cooked most nights, but it was frequently things I could put in the crockpot all day while I worked. Then, coming to Sangaris, I would spend time in the kitchen with Helena and do prep work with her, but she never let me actually cook anything. I'm months out of practice, and while the cooking shows I binged may come in handy in the earth realm, there are ingredients here I've never seen before; ones that if cooked improperly become poisonous.

He sighs. "Come on. I'll take you to the library. They never said that I couldn't do that." He grabs his bag and leads me to the door.

"Thank you." I breathe a sigh as relief washes over me.

As we step out into the hallway he says, "I'm not sure you'll find what you're looking for. Most of the books here are historical."

"There's got to be something . I think that a lot of the books about murderous potions and stuff in Feldorn had some food recipes in them. I mean, they were intended to cover up the scent and flavor of sleeping droughts or bleanroot tinctures. But the results should be the same."

He laughs. "Okay, that's pretty genius actually."

"I think I could fumble my way through it, but having some instructions would be better than none."

"So you and Prince Camus are...?"

"Mated," I supply. There's no point in hiding it anymore. The entire castle knows. I have the mark to show it. "Cyndair is pissed. That's why I have this little task ahead of me."

"She can be a difficult woman, especially if you've upset her in some way."

"That's putting it lightly," I say under my breath. "The thing is that she immediately started treating me terribly. I didn't have a snowflake's chance in hell to exist happily here, and oh my god why am I talking about this with a person I don't even know? Please don't say anything to her."

"Like she would give me the time of day," he deadpans. "As for why you're spilling your guts, I'm an energy vampire."

" Really ? What are you doing working in the kitchens?!" I'd read a little bit about energy vampires in some of the books in Feldorn, but they didn't go much into detail. And to be honest, I was much more interested in learning about regular vampires because of Livarius.

"Less people there than in most other places. Yes, I feed off of other people's emotions, but feeling the emotions of others can be exhausting. My prep cooks know to give me a wide berth. It works."

"So being an energy vampire makes people word-vomit at you?"

"My body produces a pheromone that puts you at ease, and drops your inhibitions slightly. The more you talk, the more likely you are to experience emotions that I can feed on."

"Do they taste different—the emotions? Like does one taste sweet and one taste savory?"

"No. They don't even really have a 'taste.' It's more of an aura. And everyone's aura is a different hue and it gets stronger the more emotions they're putting out. Then I sort of breathe it in. That's why I'm okay as long as I keep my distance from people. Taking in too much can make me feel full, but mentally? It's hard to explain to someone who has never experienced it."

"That is...wild." I say. "So you can't differentiate between the different emotions at all?"

"Nope. But I can tell when someone is being shady about what they're feeling. If someone claims to be excited about something, but is lying, I can tell. If someone is pretending to be angry, I can tell that too."

"That must make relationships really hard," I say.

"Yeah, actually, it does. Everyone thinks that it must be so great not having to drink blood for my magic source, but everything comes with a price. I'm sure there's some energy vamps out there who like their abilities, but I wish I could shut mine off from time to time."

I'm not sure how to respond, so I just nod. We walk the rest of the way to the library in silence. There's a part of me that wonders if that's what I've been experiencing with people's emotions–being able to read when they're being deceitful. I haven't been able to since they put me back on the higher dose of suppressant though.

When we reach the library, Sterlyn opens the door for me, and lets me in. I've been in here a couple of times this week with Ursa as we've been learning about the history of Solardin. The library here is, well, 'ridiculous' is the only word I can come up with. It's huge with domed cathedral ceilings, and gold accents painted on everything . It's so much more grandiose than the one in Feldorn. Then again everything in Solardin is.

In a way, living in Feldorn–even in the castle–feels like living in a quiet cabin in the countryside, while Solarin is comparable to living in New York City. They're so different from each other, and I wonder if it's always been that way or if that's because of Cyndair's presence.

"Can I help you?" a feminine voice calls.

I look around for the source of the sound, but there's no one in sight.

"Up here, dearie."

The second time she speaks, I'm about to home in on the direction of the voice. Sitting atop a tall book case about twenty feet from the entrance is a small pixie-like creature. She's about a foot tall, and has bubblegum pink hair, and iridescent wings. Ursa must have told her to keep herself scarce while we were in here before because I definitely would have remembered her.

"Hi! Yes, please. I need—if you have anything of the sort—a recipe book."

"Not many, but we do have a few. What are you looking to cook?" As she speaks she flits down from the bookshelf and comes to a stop, hovering just in front of where we stand.

"A deer heart. And something to go with it. And some sort of dessert."

"So a three course meal?" she asks with an airy giggle. "I'm afraid none of the books have any deer heart specific recipes, but there are some that have deer recipes. Please hold."

When she returns, she has a stack of books floating behind her. It's not a very large stack, but it will hopefully be enough.

"These were actually journals that belonged to King Esrend's father, Whitaker. He was an avid hunter and enjoyed cooking his own meals—two hobbies that the late king himself adopted." She lowers the books slowly with her magic until they're hovering right above me, and I collect them.

"Are these allowed to leave the library?"

"I'm afraid not. Not because they're all that important to the crown, but they are heirlooms."

"Can I have some parchment and a quill then?"

"Of course, dearie. You can have a seat over by those windows. I'll be right over with your supplies."

I pull out a chair and have a seat. These windows overlook the vast sea. It's a beautiful view with birds flying and some sort of sea creatures playing in the water.

Sterlyn sits across from me and stares for a long while with his hands clasped in his lap. Eventually I pull my gaze from the window to look at him.

"What?" I ask with a nervous laugh.

"You need to be careful?"

"Of what?" I ask, beginning to flip through the pages of the journal. "I'm already a captive. My life is already on the line. There's not a whole lot else that can go wrong."

"Prince Camus..."

"I know all about the prince, believe me. I had a very intense introduction to him, and none of that intensity has gone away."

"There are things that he's done that—"

"Sterlyn, I appreciate whatever it is that you're trying to do. But Camus isn't the one I need protection from anymore. My future, my fate is in the hands of the queen herself, and I'm doing my best to delay her making any decisions."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "I just thought you should know who you were laying in bed with at night."

"I have no doubts about who he is. He has shown me every single piece of him. Beneath all of that hard exterior, beneath the feigned indifference, and playboy attitude, beneath the cavalier attitude he has toward death, there is a smart, funny, and passionate man.

"He is my mate. For better or for worse; and I—"

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

I nearly jump out of my seat as Camus comes storming over to where we sit. I stand to greet him, and he doesn't stop until he's in my space, towering over me.

"Camus, we were just—"

"Just what , Arden? Having a little secret rendezvous in the library with the fucking cook?"

"I needed—"

He grabs me by the throat and pushes me against the windows, his eyes black as pitch.

"You needed to stay in the fucking kitchen where I expected you to be. Instead I showed up, hoping to surprise you, and found you and this fuckwit gone. I had to hear from his little minions that you two ran away up here.

"You're supposed to be cooking. A meal that is immensely important for your survival. So I'm going to ask you one more time: what the fuck are you doing up here?"

My hands tremble as I reach up to try to remove his hand from my windpipe so I can talk. I feel sick. I knew he had a jealous side to him. He had proved that when he forced the bond on me. A small part of my nausea is that I'm scared of him. The bigger part of me is scared for Sterlyn. I've already had one jealous prince slit someone's throat because of me. I don't want it to happen again.

"Prince Camus," Sterlyn says. He's now standing, and he takes a half a step toward us with his hands out in front of him.

"Move any closer, aura boy, and I will gut you where you stand."

"Sir, it's just that she's turning purple. I don't think she can speak."

Camus' face softens, then shifts to horror as his gaze shifts from my face to where his hand is on my throat. He lets go, and without him holding me up, I collapse to the floor, sucking in deep breaths.

Camus drops to the floor and pulls me into his lap before he begins shushing me and stroking my hair.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I—when they told me you were off with another male, I saw red."

I push away from him, slapping his hands away. "You cannot act like this if things are going to work for us. You can't turn into a giant neanderthal just because I was talking to someone. Especially when I'm mated to—"

He slaps his hand over my mouth, and I'm seconds away from punching him in the face when I realize that he just stopped me from making a huge mistake.

We're both sitting on the floor, panting, when the pixie returns. "Here's your—what in Star's name did I miss?"

Camus pulls his hand away from my mouth. "Just me being an idiot."

He stands and offers me his hand to help me to my feet. I consider not taking it for a second, but we need to be back on the same page for tonight if this is going to work.

Once I'm standing, I lean in and whisper, "Don't ever do that again unless I ask for it."

He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me into him, "Don't let any more males touch you or be alone with you in the castle, and I won't have to."

Then he kisses me, and it's a branding kiss that's meant to remind me who I belong to. And I do belong to Camus. I'm both a willing participant and an unwilling victim.

He snakes his tongue into my mouth. When I return the favor he sucks on it, and his fangs graze the sides of my tongue.

"I'm just going to put these right here," the pixie says, reminding me that we're not alone.

I pull back. "I get the point. I'm yours." In my periphery, I find that Sterlyn is gone. I glance around the library, but he's nowhere to be seen. My brow furrows. "Where the fuck did he go?"

"I'm over here!" he calls from a few bookshelves away. He pokes his head around the shelf. "You two were both very emotional for a minute there. It was kind of suffocating. Nice to see someone finally matches your energy, Prince Camus."

Camus scowls at him, then looks back at me. "What are you doing up here? I was worried. And you have," he glances at the large clock above the library door, "seven hours before we need to be setting the dining table with the food you prepared."

"I needed recipes. He's," I jerk my head toward Sterlyn, "not allowed to help me beyond small physical tasks. No one is allowed to help me. So he agreed to bring me here."

"Well, let's look for something that will work for the heart," Camus says, pulling up a chair and picking up the quill and setting a piece of parchment in front of him.

I step back over to the table and have a seat. We spend the next hour pouring over the journals, until we've landed on three dishes that we think will be enough to impress Cyndair, and then we head back down to the kitchens.

The second we enter the kitchens, I start rattling off the ingredients to Sterlyn. I've never heard of half of these ingredients. But once he sets them on the counter, I'm relieved that they look like food from the earth realm; they just have different names.

Camus hops up onto a counter nearby and watches. With the other kitchen staff around, he can't risk helping me at all, but he's still a little uptight about me being alone with the cooks.

His jealous side gives me anxiety, and gives me pause. He said that he would help me get back to the others—that he was fine with me being with them. But now that I've seen his reaction to me just walking through the castle with another male, I'm not sure he can hold to that end of the deal.

"What now, miss?" Sterlyn asks.

Glancing at the ingredients on the counter, I'm struck with a bit of inspiration. My mind had been so clouded by the stress of cooking the heart that I hadn't thought to lean on all the things my grandmother had taught me when I was a girl. I had spent hours cooking and baking with her through the years.

"Can you take me into the area where you keep the vegetables?"

"Sure," he says, and I follow him back into a dry storage pantry.

There are a few baskets with handles sitting on the floor, and I grab one and begin grabbing some things from the shelves. I just have to hope that these things taste similar enough to the earth vegetables they resemble.

Once I have everything that I need I bring them back and set them on the counter. Step-by-step, I begin talking him through making my grandmother's vegetable soup recipe. As he cuts the vegetables, I begin pouring stock into a pot and crushing some tomatoes to add to it. Then I go through the spices, tasting them and adding them as I go.

Once the base of the soup is started, I grab a bowl and some measuring cups and begin measuring the ingredients for a carrot cake. Both recipes were ones that I had made with my grandmother a number of times growing up.

As I'm struggling to mix the batter for the cake, Camus comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. He places a hand on either side of the bowl so I can stir with my uninjured arm.

"It's kind of hot watching you cook."

"I forgot how much I liked doing it. It's been so long."

"Once we're done with this ridiculous trial, I'll help you make time for it, if it's something that brings you joy."

I hum softly, and he presses his lips to the top of my head in a chaste kiss.

Once the cake is in the oven, and all of the ingredients are added to the soup, it's time to start on the heart. My stomach is doing somersaults. With everything else, if I had screwed up, I could always make another one. But with this, I have exactly one chance to get it correct.

I'm going to be feeding Cyndair, her advisors, and her children and grandchildren. I need to stretch the heart as far as possible, and provide enough food for everyone. It's a large heart, but not that large.

Someone had placed it in a glass container while I was in the infirmary. I assumed that I had either Solina or one of Ursa's minions to thank for that. Sterlyn carries the container over to the sink and begins washing it of the blood. I watch as he squeezes the heart as if pumping it, and blood pours out of the major vessels and arteries. Eventually the water runs clean and he brings it over to the counter.

He sets it on a cutting board then nervously glances behind him. He begins cutting into the heart, removing some bits and setting them to the side.

He whispers, "The one thing the book didn't tell you is that some of those pieces are really tough if you don't remove them first. There really isn't much usable meat to most hearts—enough for two to four steaks. Thankfully, with this one being so huge, you should have enough for the recipe you're looking at making."

He set to work, following my instructions: Dicing the beef, cutting two citrus fruits in half. While he does that, I set to work crushing the belally buds in a mortar and pestle along with some sort of vegetable that reminds me of a turnip, but smells and tastes like garlic.

Once those are well mixed, I add some sort of citrus and some seasonings, and mix it together. Then I let it sit while I mash the root vegetables that just finished boiling. Camus has to hold the bowl for me again, but eventually with his help, I have garlic-flavored mashed root vegetables in front of me.

I make a sauce using their version of an onion, the mushrooms I foraged, and rabbit milk. I don't even want to know how long it takes to milk a rabbit.

"You have about an hour and we need to go get you dressed and in makeup before the dinner, or Grandmother will lose her mind. Are you about finished?" Camus asks.

I dump the diced heart in with the belally mixture and give it a good stir. Once the mixture is complete, I cover it and hand it to Sterlyn. "This needs to be refrigerated, and I need you to slice a baguette—"

"A what?"

I walk into the dry storage room, and grab one of the long slender loaves of bread, and bring it back in.

"This. I need this to be sliced and slightly toasted. Thank you! You've been so helpful. I'll be back down to plate things before we go to dinner."

I rip off my apron and toss it on the counter before hurrying out the door after Camus. All of the time we spent in the library really put me behind.

"It'll be great. Everything smelled amazing." Camus takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.