Delphi had worked in enough big houses over her life that she had no problem finding the kitchen. It didn't look like it had been used for decades either. Did Tenebrys and the others just eat their food raw?
Delphi searched the cupboards, but they were bare except for spices whose freshness she was uncertain about. They were better than nothing. She smelled the cinnamon, closing her eyes to savor its scent.
"Sweet goddess, you smell good," she whispered.
Spices were a rare commodity in Grisvallon. Even in the larger towns, spices like cinnamon and saffron were affordable only to the very rich. They had to come all the way from the hot southern realms like Kisharu. She put the cinnamon down and kept exploring.
Delphi shoved the back door open, pushing hard. Grass had grown up behind it, but she made a crack wide enough for her to squeeze between.
She stepped carefully through the overgrown garden until she found a well and pulled up a bucket of water. There were no bugs or worms in it, and it appeared clear with no foul odors. She would boil it first, just to be careful, but at least she wouldn't go thirsty.
Delphi had been poor for almost as long as she could remember, so she knew how to forage for things to eat. She found blackberries growing over one corner of the garden, gathered some, and then looked at the rows of untended beds.
The château was enormous and had once housed many people, so the kitchen gardens were extensive. Why had no one tended to them?
She dug out some potatoes that had survived the odds. Rosemary and thyme were next, their bushes grown wild and massive.
Delphi didn't know what Tenebrys's plans were for her, but if she were going to be a prisoner indefinitely, she would need to sort the garden out again to feed herself.
Delphi sighed. "Not like I haven't lived off less before."
She pulled weeds as she went, uncovering fresh shoots of onion and garlic, tangled vines of tomatoes, pumpkin, yarrow, and lavender.
In Grisvallon, the spring had started, but it was warmer here, and there seemed to be more that was already good enough to eat.
Would Tenebrys even bother telling her where they were located? She had been thinking about the coat of arms that she had glimpsed the night before, trying to place it.
She couldn't recall all the details, but during her studies on the war with the fae, a family of shifters living on the border between the realms had helped to rally shifter clans from Runefjell to aid the humans in driving the enemy back into Faerie.
The shifter family's motto involved something about the light in darkness. If this was their land and château, then what had happened to the rest of them?
The people of Grisvallon had lived side by side with the Mistwood, but Delphi had never heard of them talking about this place.
Had the town's memories really changed that much in thirty years? Maybe Grisvallon hadn't fought in the wars at all. Their lives revolved around farming, then having babies to help with it. Round and round it went. They weren't warriors of any kind.
Delphi would have to ask Tenebrys if he ever bothered to talk to her again. There was so much she wanted to know. She also wanted a chance to convince him that she was nothing like Narcisse.
Why do you even care if he does? He's taken you prisoner and told you he wants you to suffer.
Walking through the gardens that morning didn't feel like suffering. It felt freeing not to have to worry about what mood or how hungover Narcisse would be that day.
Delphi was lightheaded by the time she stopped working and took her small haul of fruit and vegetables into the kitchen. She retrieved her bucket of water, rinsed out a dusty cast-iron pot, and then filled it.
There was wood still in the box beside the cooking fireplace, but no kindling. She was tired and hungry, so Delphi summoned her magic and lit the logs.
A shiver went through the kitchen, a shift in the air that had Delphi whirling around. No one was there.
"Bloody spirits," she whispered, and because she knew better than to mess with the unseen world, she set aside some of her fruit and food and put it on a windowsill as an offering.
Delphi made a tea of ginger root and lemon grass and explored the kitchen cupboards. Whoever the staff had been, they had kept it orderly, and there were more utensils and pots and pans than she knew what to do with.
A door that she thought was another pantry cupboard led down into a cooling cellar lined with marble to keep food fresher for longer.
A glass jar at the bottom of one cupboard was filled with soap flakes, so Delphi did what she always did when she felt ready to rage against the world and began to scrub things. She would need to have a clean space to cook in anyway.
While she worked, she tried to sort through any memories she had of Narcisse mentioning work that he and her mother had done.
Narcisse had always been more than eager to talk about the glory days of his youth. He had never mentioned working for Tenebrys or the full details of how Cassia had died giving birth to her.
