The kitchens were huge and immaculate. Entire rooms were devoted to baking, butchering and processing vegetables. There were sinks and stoves in each room, as well as various kinds of pantries and cold storage. The staff was polite, though they only stopped when directly addressed. It was hard to believe the amount of food they processed in a day.
“The Citadel is vast. The kitchens supply all the food for our garrison, my personal household as well as their own families,” Jayems explained. “There are many young apprentices here, learning how to provide for their own families. It’s not just a kitchen, it’s also a classroom.”
“Wow.” Wiley thanked a young man who handed her a tiny tart, then took a bite. Warm citrus curd and buttery shell melted on her tongue. “Mm! Where do I sign up?”
Jayems grinned. “You’re welcome to take lessons here in the kitchens, or I’ll be glad to arrange a private tutor.”
Unwilling to acknowledge she’d be there long enough to attend the lessons, she made a noncommittal sound.
As she snacked her way around the kitchens she acquired knowledge of many new foods, and of a surprising array of familiar ones like carrots. Food being a subject dear to her heart, she couldn’t keep from asking questions.
“We brought many seeds and plants when we came; others are natives to this planet. Some of the plants didn’t thrive, but others loved their new home.” He gestured to a monstrous parsnip on a cutting board.
“Tell me Brussels sprouts didn’t make it,” she begged.
“Never heard of it,” he said with a smile.
“Sweet.” Even drowned in cheese sauce, she’d never been able to stand Brussels sprouts. Martian heads, they used to call them.
He led her out another door and into a formal herb garden, smiling at her exclamation of pleasure. “The pride of our kitchens,” he said, gesturing to the knot garden. “We have fifteen varieties of thyme alone.”
“Cool.” She bent to sniff a hedge. “Mint! I love this stuff in cocoa.”
The herb garden led into the orchards. It was long past noon by the time they’d toured the vegetable gardens, greenhouses, seen the berry plot and done a quick walk through the livestock area. Tired, but more relaxed than she’d been that morning, she let him lead her back toward the Citadel.
They’d nearly reached the entrance when they met up with a group of three young ladies and a matronly sort. One look at Jayems and the young ones were all shy smiles and giggles.
Wiley rolled her eyes. Those girls were around her age and old enough to have more sense. Granted, Jayems was good looking in a brutal sort of way, but anyone could see he would be a totally domineering husband, completely unsuited to any woman with a brain.
It didn’t stop the giggling trio, who looked like they spent half their day preparing to wow men. Their hair trailed in elaborate braids down their backs, as if a maid had spent at least an hour on each of them. They wore subtle makeup, expertly applied, and their perfect nails had surely never seen hard labor. Grecian-style gowns of flowing silk adorned perfect bodies, and all of the girls were pretty.
Wiley disliked them on the spot.
Smiling in a sweet, demure way that had never come naturally to Wiley, the girl with the light brown hair greeted them. “My lord. It’s good to see you again.” A light shown in her blue eyes as she looked at him. “Who is your guest?”
Jayems looked at the girl gravely. “Good afternoon, Lady Nilla. May I present Lady Rihlia, daughter of Lady Rhapsody and Lord Crewel Sotra.”
The smile froze as if she’d been hit by ice-cold water. Gradually the light drained out of Lady Nilla’s eyes. She stared at Wiley for a long moment and said hollowly, “The pleasure is mine, my lady.”
“Wiley,” Wiley interjected. “My name is Wiley.”
Jayems ignored her. “This is Lady Carr, Lady Nilla’s mother. Her companions are Lady Stair and Bella, daughter of the chief cook.”
“Pleasure,” Wiley said politely.
Lady Carr, a slightly plump woman with too much jewelry, looked Rihlia over quickly and then stared reprovingly at Jayems. “I’m sorry for any discomfort, my lord. We had no warning.”
“It happened quickly. Lady Rihlia was only discovered last night,” Jayems answered, his tone even.
Lady Nilla looked down and seemed to be blinking rapidly.
Wiley was no slouch. Nodding to them all, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the ladies room.” They were in the path, so she detoured around them. She got two strides before Jayems’s hand closed around her elbow.
She glanced at him. “Don’t you have things to talk about here?” It was obvious his girlfriend had just received a blow. He ought to at least explain things to the poor girl.
He looked back at the women, who were no longer smiling. Lady Nilla looked ready to break down. He spoke gently to her. “If you’ll return to your apartments, I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. I must escort my lady to her room.”
Wiley shook off his grip as soon as they’d stepped into the Citadel. He wouldn’t turn loose one second sooner. “Hey, if you need protection from a woman, don’t be looking my way. I’m not now, nor will I ever be, your lady.”
“It was a figure of speech.” He looked distracted.
“Sure it was. Let me guess; Lady Nilla was in the picture before I turned up. No problem. Just tell her that I have no intention of marrying you. She’s welcome to you, with my compliments.” She ignored his silence. She was feeling flippant. It was her best defense against feeling guilty. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Jayems had messed up his life by dragging her here. If he’d just left her alone, they’d all be happy now.
They reached his rooms and he stopped inside. He looked at her for a moment, then stared out the window, his gaze unfocused.
With a shrug, she tuned him out and went to her room. She shut the door, though curiosity nipped at her. What would he do now?
To her surprise, some of her gear from the campsite had been left in her room. Thrilled to see her backpack, she rifled through it and came up with her MP3 player and spare battery pack. She clutched it like Monty with the Holy Grail and sent up a prayer of thanks as she plugged in.
Jayems stood before Lady Nilla’s door. He bowed his head and placed one hand on the stout wood, wishing there was some way he could soften this blow.Nilla was his lover of two month’s standing, but their relationship had started long before. They’d been friends of a sort before the attraction had unexpectedly boiled over into something more. He’d begun to look at her in a considering light for some weeks now, and she had not missed the cues. Even so, she hadn’t clung, just loved him sweetly, silently offering her heart.He’d been close to speaking to her father. Her mother had worn a look of expectation for the last little while. And why not? His betrothed had been accepted as dead for nearly twenty years. He’d felt it was foo
As Jayems prepared to enter, the steward warned him, “You won’t be able to talk in there, milord. May I report out here?”“Make it quick,” Jayems said, burning with curiosity. What a racket! It sounded like an entire raiding party, not one lone woman.“It started out with her banging on pots and pans,” the steward said. “She looked spooked when we burst in, so I offered to get her a drum set.” He winced, as if regretting that idea. “It got out of hand from there. Next, she asked what other instruments we had. I offered to bring her some samples. Somehow the technicians figured out how to make her music play over your sound system...she’s been very busy.”
“Beautiful,” he said softly, and her eyes shot to his in surprise. Surprise? How could she not know she was lovely?“Ah…thanks,” she said. Sending him an uneasy glance, she took a seat on the couch.Jayems tried to think of something to relax her. Before he could speak, Keilor strode into the room unannounced. “She is here.”Relieved to have the subject changed, even by this, Jayems shut the heavy ledger he’d been perusing. His boots remained crossed on the desktop as he waited for more details.Rihlia wasn’t nearly as calm. She leapt up off the couch and demanded bre
Keilor looked at her with a knowing expression. He turned to Jayems and made a few signs with his hands. “The girl is planning to bring back help.”Jayems sent her a dark glance and signed back. “I see it.” This was not how they’d planned this. The girl was supposed to be scared out of her mind, begging to go. That’s how Rihlia had behaved, and she was a Haunt. Keilor was supposed to have terrified the girl. Hadn’t he tried?“I could take care of her,” Keilor offered. His face was carefully blank. He’d never harmed a woman before, but both of them knew the stakes.“I swore not to harm her.”
She looked at her arms and stiffened with fright. In seconds she was back to human form, her face paper white.“Scared yourself, did you? You’ll get used to it. It’s been under a minute, however.” He moved toward her.She cursed him and dashed for her door.He got there first and slammed it shut, then spun her against the panel. “Change or be kissed,” he warned her again.“No!” she tried to kick him. Blocked, she squirmed and tried to rip loose, but she was firmly caught. “Please…”
An image jumped to mind at Keilor’s words, but Jayems swiftly thrust it aside. A spike of possessiveness stabbed him instead. He didn’t want any man speculating about his woman. “Be careful how you speak of her.”“Noted. You do need to marry, however. You will marry. I’d just like to see you hurry it up.”Jayems snorted. Keilor was a practical man, as long as they weren’t discussing his marriage. Keilor was happy as a bachelor and had his share of ambitious huntresses trying to catch him. Any mention of them usually sent him running to the practice fields to grind out his frustrations.He was right, though. The political situation
Guilt pricked her. She didn’t want to admit what she knew, since it might lead to questions of how. To stall, she moved to an armchair, tucking one long leg under her. “Lights,” she ordered and then, “Shutters.”Hoping to avoid more in depth questions, she said, “They figured it out right away. The Haunt brought me back here and Jayems told me they knew.” She shivered, remembering what else he’d said. “I was afraid of what Keilor would do when he found you.” She peeked through her lashes to see Jasmine busily avoiding her eyes. Her voice ached when she asked, “What did he do, Jas?” She was afraid of the answer, but she needed to know. Even if it was the worst, she needed to hear it.Jasmine looked
“It’s your father, Crewel Sotra,” he said softly.Wiley looked at it, feeling numb. She didn’t remember his face, had forgotten long ago what he looked like, except for the dark hair. Dressed in the black uniform of the Haunt, he had an indigo shirt under the leather vest, and a red Celtic knot, a symbol of rank, on his shoulder.“He loved your spirit. He would have been proud of you for surviving the way you did. He was a good man,” Jayems said quietly.An ache started behind her eyes and spread to her throat. She looked down to hide her expression, but her eyes kept returning to her father’s face. Afraid to cry in front of Jayems, she laid the picture