“What do ye want to ken?”
“Everythin’. How old were ye when ye started? How often did ye get caught? What did Cook do when she found ye?” Iris let her curiosity show in her eyes, leaning forward slightly. “Come on, give me somethin’.”
He took another sip of dram, and she could see him considering where to start and weighing what to reveal. “I was seven the first time.”
“Seven? That’s young for sneakin’ around a castle at night.”
“Aye, well, I was desperate. Me faither had sent me to bed without supper as punishment for some minor infraction, probably talkin’ back or nae sittin’ straight enough at dinner.” She watched him stare into his glass, his expression distant. “I was starvin’, and I kent where Cook kept the bread.”
“So ye just... snuck down here in the middle of the night?”
“Nae exactly bravely. Me heart was poundin’ so hard I thought it would wake the entire castle.” His smile at the memory made something warm bloom in her chest. “Every shadow looked like me faither comin’ to catch me. Every creak of the floorboards sounded like thunder.”
“But ye made it?”
“Aye, I made it. Stuffed me face with bread and honey until I thought I’d be sick.” He chuckled, and the sound sent a pleasant shiver through her. “Then I tried to sneak back to me chambers and realized I’d left a trail of crumbs behind me like some fool in a fairy tale.”
Iris laughed, the image of a tiny Elijah leaving a breadcrumb trail both endearing and heartbreaking. “Did anyone follow the trail?”
“If they did, they never said, but I was more careful after that.” He refilled both their glasses. “Started comin’ down here regularly whenever me faither was particularly harsh. Became quite good at movin’ through the dark without makin’ a sound.”
“How often did ye get caught?”
“Only once, but it wasnae by who ye’d expect.” He shifted, getting more comfortable, and Iris found herself doing the same. “I was about eight by then, thought I’d mastered the art of midnight raids. Got cocky, decided to go for the honey cakes instead of just bread.”
“And?”
“And Cook walked in to find me sittin’ on the counter, face covered in jam, honey cake crumbs all down me shirt.” He shook his head. “I nearly died of fright on the spot.”
“What did she do?”
“That’s the strange part. She just looked at me for a long moment then said, ‘Ye missed a spot’, and pointed to me chin.” His voice softened in a way that made Iris’ throat tighten. “Then she sat me down at the table, got me a proper plate, and gave me a real meal. Beef pie, vegetables, fresh bread. The works.”
“She fed ye? Just like that?”
“Aye. Told me that if I was goin’ to raid her kitchen, I should at least do it properly. Said a growin’ boy needed more than just sweets.” He paused. “She asked me why I wasnae gettin’ enough food at dinner, and I... I told her about me faither’s punishments.”
“What did she say?”
“She called him several names I wasnae supposed to ken at that age.” Elijah’s smile made Iris want to reach across and touch his hand, but she held herself still. “Then she made me promise that anytime I was sent to bed hungry, I’d come to her directly instead of sneakin’ around like a thief. Said she’d make sure I was fed properly.”
“And did ye? Go to her directly?”
“Sometimes. When I was desperate enough to risk it.” He took another drink, and she watched his throat work as he swallowed. “But mostly I kept sneakin’. It felt safer somehow. Less like charity, more like takin’ what I needed.”
“But she knew ye were doin’ it?”
“Oh aye. She’d leave things out for me sometimes. Fresh bread on the counter, fruit in easy reach. Never said a word about it, but I knew she was helpin’ me anyway.”
Iris felt her heart clench at the image of a small boy, starving and frightened, finding these small kindnesses left for him in the dark. “She sounds like a wonderful woman.”
“She was one of the few people who was kind to me,” he said quietly, and Iris heard the weight of loneliness in those words. “She’d sneak me extra portions at meals when me faither wasnaelookin’. Made sure I had warm clothes in winter. Small things, but they mattered.”
“Where is she now?”
“She passed away five years ago. I still miss her.” He took another drink, and Iris saw the grief flash across his features. “She would have liked ye, I think. She always said I needed someone who wasnae afraid to stand up to me.”
The words sent warmth flooding through her chest. “She sounds wise.”
