I waited until she was out of sight before slipping into the servant stairway. I descended the narrow, winding stairs to the bottom floor and emerged into the kitchen.
As soon as I set foot on the stone floor, a tall, bearded man greeted me with a sneer, brandishing a ladle. “No, no, no, get back upstairs, girl.”
“Good morning to you, too, Bubbles,” I said with a smirk. “Having a bad day already?”
“I told you to stop calling me that. It’s Bubba.” His warm brown eyes crinkled at the edges as he fixed me with a narrowed gaze. “Now, go on back upstairs, girl.” He waved me off dismissively and turned to the far wall, where a pot of simmering tomatoes bubbled gently.
Bubba was a burly, bald man with a weathered face and a thick, grizzled white beard. He was tan from years of working outdoors and was tall with broad shoulders.
I followed him with a smile, taking in the vast kitchen space around us. The kitchens were busier than usual, probably in preparation for the upcoming ball. Workers in stained aprons shouted and pushed their way around the bustling room. Some rolled dough or gutted fish, while others chopped vegetables and fruits with practiced efficiency. The smell of bread and smoked meat filled the room, making my mouth water.
“As you can see, we are busy, and I don’t need you distracting Cynthia from her work,” he said with his back to me, flinging tomato sauce off his ladle with a flick of his wrist.
“Who said I was here to see Cynthia? Why couldn’t I be here to see you?” I sat on a nearby stool and almost fell off when a plump kid carrying heavy bags of what looked like potatoes bumped into me. I managed to swing my legs out of the way just in time.
The boy turned to me angrily, cursing, before going white as a sheet as he realized who I was.
“What are you just standing there for, boy? Those potatoes won’t peel themselves. Go, go,” Bubba turned and shouted sternly. The boy looked as if he might faint, but began to apologize frantically before running across the kitchen.
Bubba turned his attention back to me, placing his hands on his hips. “You’ve only ever been here to see her,” he said, giving me a pointed look. “My daughter is busy with preparations for the ball. She doesn’t need you distracting her.”
I gave him a devilish grin and laughed lightly. “Come on, Bubbles, where is she? Pleasseeeeeeee.” I batted my lashes at him, and he rolled his eyes. He grumbled about something to do with the chickens, and that was all I needed. I hopped off the stool and ran toward the back door.
“Tell Cynthia if she doesn’t return in one hour, there will be a dock in her pay!” Bubba shouted after me, and I chuckled.
“Aye, aye, Bubba!” I saluted as I made my way out of the kitchen, and I could have sworn I saw him smile before returning to his pot.
I stepped onto the gravel path outside the kitchens and followed it around the bend of trees toward the barn. Even from a distance, I could see Cynthia's fiery red hair darting up and down across the field ahead.
The pig must have escaped again. With a chuckle, I sprinted toward the field and arrived just in time to see her tackle the tiny piglet to the ground, cursing under her breath. The piglet wriggled desperately beneath her, trying to break free.
“Damn pig,” Cynthia muttered between panted breaths. “Can't just stay in your pen, always finding a way to escape.” She managed to stand and started to walk toward the pen, the pig thrashing in her arms.
As she reached the gate, I swung it open for her. “Looks like you could use some help.”
Cynthia’s light brown eyes snapped to mine, and she nearly dropped the piglet again. She grinned at me and tossed the piglet recklessly into its pen, slamming the gate shut just in time behind it.
Cynthia stood about the same height as me, but unlike my slender frame, she boasted broader shoulders that hinted at hidden strength. Though her chest was fuller than mine, we shared the same wide hips and curvy features. Her complexion was porcelain pale, starkly contrasting with the rich hues of her red hair cascading in unruly waves around her shoulders.
“I have a surprise for you,” I announced, barely containing my excitement.
Cynthia groaned playfully, dramatically tossing her head back. “Oh no, you’re terrible at surprises.”
I swatted her arm in mock offense. “Oh, stop it. You love my surprises.”
She laughed, pushing me back lightly. “I'm just teasing; go on, tell me.” She grinned.
“Meet me in my room after my training session in the morning. I promise you will love it,” I said, a little too excitedly.
Cynthia eyed me suspiciously. “Well, now I’m scared.” She looped her arm through mine, pulling me along as we headed back toward the castle.
“You should be,” I teased back, winking at her.
She shook her head, smiling. “Are you excited for the ball?” Cynthia asked, changing the subject. “Dare I ask who your mother set you up with this year?”
“She hasn’t picked anyone yet. A bit last minute this year.” I chuckled lightly.
Cynthia turned to me, her eyes catching the worry on my face. “How about the new captain?” she suggested with aplayful wiggle of her eyebrows. “I hear he's mouth-wateringly gorgeous… or at least that’s the rumor.”
