Lind played with her spoon, purposely ignoring Robin but apparently not hungry enough to eat.
Robin didn’t blame her. The purple mash made from underripe turnips was mild at the best of times. But when the growing season had been as short as the last year’s had, the mash would be bitter and hardly palatable.
Robin swallowed away the memory of that taste. It had been a frequent meal when meat was scarce in Lockwood.
Simply seeing her traitorous once-friend made Robin’s stomach twist. Lind’s duties kept her by the well and washhouse—places Robin actively avoided.
Shaking away the discomfort, Robin exhaled and slid out the kitchen door.
She let the brisk greenreign sunlight warm her shoulders and relax her muscles. She imagined Humphrey, dozing in his stall and then nickering in pleasure to see her.
But even that happy thought could not drive away the sight of Lind’s sorrowful eyes. Part of Robin was pleased that Lind looked miserable. Robin wanted her to pay for what she had done. Part of her also felt angry, angry that her morning had been ruined by the sight of a face she no longer wished to see.
But why did the knot in her stomach refuse to melt in the sunshine?
Lind was the closest person to real family Robin had left. The sight of her face also brought back pleasant memories, from the time before everything had changed. Memories of the tall, dense forest surrounding Lockwood Manor. When eating mash was hardly difficult, because as soon as she finished it she could be racing through the village with her friends.
But these happier thoughts were merely memories. The image of Lind now was fresh and real. Lind. Sitting in solitude—despite being surrounded by people—choking down turnip mash in the palace kitchen.
It was too late. That one encounter had ruined Robin’s entire day, crowding out her stomach and mind until she wanted to clench her fists and scream.
She stopped in the courtyard. In the distance, the wood-topped stable beckoned her. She could step forward, leave the kitchen behind, find Humphrey, and attempt to spend the day in peaceful solitude. But her mind would continue churning with the memories of the past, shutting her in with her own feelings of loneliness.
Or . . .
Robin turned around, walked back toward the castle keep, and slipped through the wide kitchen door before she could change her mind. Once again avoiding notice, she made her way along the back wall and sat opposite Lind.
Robin inhaled, hoping she appeared more confident than she felt as the kitchen maid’s eyes widened in alarm at her arrival.
“Why are you...?” Lind looked around the room nervously, but no one was paying attention to them. “What do you...” She shrank back against her seat.
Robin’s heart twisted in pain. If her old friend was uncomfortable, Robin was ten times more so. “Why did you do it?” Robin asked, jumping immediately to the point of the conversation.
“I don’t know,” Lind whispered, looking down at the table.
“But you did do it,” Robin pressed. “There must’ve been a reason. Did I do something to hurt you? Were you trying to take revenge on me?”
Lind shook her head. “No.”
“Did Humphrey do something?” Robin continued to press, feeling justified in her anger.
“No!” Lind responded more vehemently. “This isn’t . . . It wasn’t . . . It’s not about you.”
Robin leaned back, pulling her weight off the table as she waited for Lind to further explain.
“I wouldn’t do it again,” Lind said. “I wish I’d never done it. I wish I could take it all back. Please don’t hurt me anymore.” The last few words were whispered in a piteous tone.
“I’m not hurting you,” Robin said. Her anger seemed to dissipate a little, leaving confusion in its place. This was not the conversation she’d expected to have. And certainly not the fearless, talkative, bold person she used to know. “So if it wasn’t about me, why did you do it?”
“At first it was just for fun,” Lind said slowly. “I wanted what you had. And you were willing to trade that for some of my...invisibility.”
Robin felt a frown deepen in her forehead as she struggled to understand. She had agreed to the original ruse. It was the betrayal afterward, and then the attempt to poison Humphrey, that she was angry about.
But Lind had fallen silent.
“And then?” Robin pressed.
“I was tired of being hungry,” Lind finally whispered, her voice very small.
