More laughter from the cook, cut off when Thomas marched into the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway and looked straight at Lyndal. ‘You are not stealing kitchen scraps again, are you?’
‘Of course not, Uncle,’ she said, taking a step back from Astin. ‘The pastries are on their way.’
‘The queen mother will depart soon but wishes to speak with you first. Can I trust you not to embarrass me again?’
‘Again?’ Astin asked, turning to him. ‘When did she embarrass you the first time?’
Lyndal almost fell over when he came to her defence. Though it would not end well for him.
Thomas’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is there a reason you are standing in my kitchen, defender?’
‘Yes, actually,’ Astin replied.
Thomas waited for him to explain what he was doing. When Astin offered no further information, he mumbled something under his breath before marching back out the door.
Lyndal turned to Astin, an expression of gratitude on the tip of her tongue, but he spoke before she could.
‘You better get out there.’
Then he was gone from the kitchen also.
She stared at the door he had disappeared through, a puzzled expression on her face. Glancing at the grinning cook, she said, ‘Bones. Don’t forget,’ then followed them. Her eyes instinctively went to Astin when she entered the dining room. He was standing by the wall—not looking at her.
‘Queen Fayre has invited me to court,’ Kendra said, drawing her attention to the table. Her cousin’s eyes were lit with excitement.
‘That’s wonderful.’ Lyndal slipped back into her chair, eyes meeting the queen’s. ‘I assure you she’s wonderful company.’
Fayre adjusted the tart on her plate. ‘I would like it if you accompanied your cousin for the remainder of the season, as I suspect you are also good company.’
‘Is that appropriate?’ Borin asked with a mouth full of pastry. ‘The girl’s fortunes may have turned, but she is still a merchant by definition.’
‘I must agree with the king,’ Lord Thomas said, sitting forwards in his chair. ‘We would hate to contribute to any scandal at court.’
The queen stared coolly back at him. ‘I am quite capable of choosing the company I keep.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘Lyndal will join her cousin for the remainder of the spring, unless there are anyviableobjections.’
The uncomfortable silence that followed made Lyndal want to crawl under the table. She was still wrestling with the idea of ‘spring’. Referencing seasons was pointless as Europe continued to suffer through a decade-long winter. Seasons were only differentiated by how heavy and often the rain fell. Though winter did bring an occasional dusting of snow that quickly turned to slush.
Realising that everyone was waiting for her reply, she said, ‘That is a very generous invitation…’
‘You are quite welcome,’ the queen said, not giving her a chance to add a ‘but’. She pulled her plate closer and picked up the tart, taking a small bite. Her eyes closed as she chewed. ‘I am quite tempted to invite your cook along also.’
Kendra laughed, though it was a little on the awkward side. Lady Victoria smiled politely while Thomas stared hard at his fork. Borin was helping himself to another tart. When Lyndal braved another look at Astin, she found him watching her with a dark expression she could not translate. He was likely unhappy at the prospect of her venturing into his territory.
She was going to need to ready herself for a long and frosty spring.
Chapter 5
Astin walked the muddy road to the gate that separated the royal and farming boroughs, a large knot in his stomach. His sister only ever came to him with bad news. The last time had been twelve months earlier, when rinderpest had found its way to the herd. They tracked the disease back to a bull their stepfather had purchased from outside the wall. Thankfully, Presley had acted at the first sign of symptoms, isolating the sick to prevent spread to neighbouring farms.
Six months before that, it had been a wild dog attack. They had dug under the wall and taken the new lambs as they were being born.
Now Presley stood on the other side of the gate wearing her usual wary expression, auburn hair plaited to one side and dark circles enclosing her amber eyes. She worked harder than any man he knew.
Astin watched her through the portcullis as it rose, and she watched him right back. He walked beneath the archway and away from the guards. Presley tucked the piece of parchment she carried, which allowed her to ask for him at the gate, into her dress and followed him. She stopped a few feet from him when he turned to face her.
‘You look well.’ Her tone was flat. ‘At least we know where all the food is going.’
It was an uncomfortable thought that he had more access to meat than the farmers producing it. He knew King Borin had men tracking every ear of wheat grown and every chicken hatched in that borough. When his family lost the lambs to the dogs, the king had sent defenders to the farm to investigate.
