“I didn’t bring any money,” I said.
She laughed. “Isca, Prince Emrys ordered that you get anything you ask for.”
Emrys? I nearly dropped my basket. “Oh… Well, I need to stretch my legs. I’d go mad sitting in that library another day.”
She shook her head like she couldn’t believe I actuallywantedto work. We filled up our baskets while swapping stories of our childhoods. Her talk veered unwaveringly back to the princes. I shared stories of helping to raise my siblings and the disasters that popped up around the house when each came into their magic.
“Accidentally flinging spoons across the room with early telekinesis was practically a rite of passage. My poor father had to replace all our smashed bowls with wood at one point. Our good pottery didn’t stand a chance against the terrors of magical puberty.”
I laughed. My thoughts drifted back to the osprey Tegil had made me, still tucked away in my little box of treasures from home. I missed him. I missed Mama and Papa and even my horrid little market stall that always smelled of butchered pork and poverty.
Catrin must have seen the homesickness plainly on my face, because she grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the castle kitchens.
The moment we stepped inside, I wondered why I hadn’t come to this part of the keep before. A network of brick hearths filled the air with heat and the scent of baking bread and stewing apples. It reminded me so much of home, warm and safe, that I almost teared up.
The rafters were laden with drying herbs, their earthy scent mingling with the gamey smell of dozens of pheasants, ready to be cooked for tonight’s dinner. The sturdy wooden shelves held an array of gleaming earthenware jars and amphorae, filled with fragrant wine, sweet mead, and imported olive oil, ready for the cooks’ use.
Catrin’s introduction pulled me out of that emotional swell. “Lady Isca, meet Sabha, my mother.”
She was plump and rosy, her riot of dark curls barely restrained by her kerchief . Before I could get a word in, her hug squeezed the air out of me—and probably half my ribs—but I wasn’t complaining.
“Mama, you’re going to smother her,” Catrin complained while grinning.
Sabha’s laugh was like warm honey. It refilled my chest with the glow only a mother’s care could create. “Catrin said you’d need some vials for your tinctures. Would glazed pottery do? Sit, sit. I’ve pastries cooling—you’re skin and bones!” Her spoon waved at us like a wand of command. “Relax, relax!”
My heart nearly broke open at her fussing. I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been wound until someone else took over, even if it was with a spoon instead of a sword or crown. If I hadn’t been so practiced at suppressing my emotions, I would’ve burst into tears right then and there.
It was now clear why Catrin talked so much. She’d grown up under the waterfall of her mother’s voice.
“Sorry about my mum,” Catrin whispered once her mother was out of earshot. “She’s a bit much, but she was dying to meet you.”
With my stomach rumbling and my spirits low, the offer of pastries and a mother’s comforting presence was impossible to resist. “No, Catrin,” I said honestly, settling onto the worn bench beside her. “This is exactly what I needed. Thank you.”
Sabha returned from the far end of the kitchen carrying a silver platter laden with three different shapes of treats that smelled of warm spices and sugar. She offered up the tray. “Thought I’d get a pair of level heads to test these before the princes wolf them down without even tasting them! The surprise visit from Prince Owain left us scrambling, so we’re determined to be ready with a tasty welcome for the next high-ranking guests.”
She pulled out a massive cleaver and cut each in half for Catrin and me to share. “Hazelnuts, berries, and the last one has something special.”
We eagerly ate the first two, but Catrin and I shared a look when we smelled the third one. Its aroma had a tart and herbal mix I hadn’t expected.
Catrin raised one brow. “Mama, this smells almost like soap. Has the heat already addled your brain?”
“No,child.” Sabha scoffed. “Try it!”
I bit, and flavor burst on my tongue—vervain, jam, mint. “Sabha,” I gasped. “You sorceress!”
Sabha’s freckled cheeks creased with a wide smile. “She told me you were an herbalist. Thought it suited the upcoming celebration. Think the princes will like it?”
Catrin shook her head. “I don’t think it matters, Mama. They see flakey bread and inhale whatever it is without hesitation.”
“That’s how these warriors are.” Sabha shook her head sadly, though her emotions shone with pride and adoration. I sensed that Sabha’s nurturing had shaped the princes’ upbringing.
She took me in a sideways hug, still holding the platter laden with treats. “Poor thing’s been surrounded by nothing but menfolk lately. Whenever you need to get away from that masculine energy, come by the kitchens, and I’ll bake you up a batch of something sweet and lend an open ear. I’ll enjoy it. Catrin’s been too busy chasing that guard lately to pay her old mother any mind!”
My eyes shot to Catrin. Sothatwas what she was busy doing when she’d gone missing randomly. Her cheeks, freckled just like her mother’s, were blushing fiercely.
I begged, “Catrin, don’t hold out on me. Ineedto hear all about this.”
I knew almost everything there was to know about her paramour within the hour. As I laughed through Catrin’s blushing confessions, a tender, essential part of me began to heal.
