“They’ll be too busy today. The kitchens will be also, so we might not be able to stay long. But by the time we make it there, they might be almost done with lunch.”
He had a point. Maurice was likely in charge of feeding all of parliament for the day if they were meeting at the castle.
Owen gave me a shrug. “Better than nothing? I’ll be sure to watch the hallways. If anyone shows up who we don’t trust, stand up and head for the door, acting like you were just passing through.”
I knew Owen was only trying to help, but I also knew that freedom was only a mirage until the king was gone. Or until it was known I had magic. It all felt futile. With a combination of my magic and my training, I was now the safest I had been at the castle. But I still had to act like I was one of the most vulnerable in Kavan Keep.
I let out a sigh. “Maybe for just twenty minutes?”
Owen nodded. “Of course.”
After a quick shower, I found there were more bodies in the kitchen than we were used to. Maurice had apparently called in extra help for feeding the parliament members.
“Rinaldi!” I found myself smiling ear to ear in seeing my favorite server.
He gave me a little bow. “Well hello, Miss Demir.”
“Are you serving today?”
He gave me a nod. “Yes. Me and three others.” He paused to smile. “Non-poisoned drinks, of course.”
Knowing how stuffy some of the parliament members could be, I offered, “Good luck.”
“He does not need luck, Tiny,” Maurice’s voice boomed. “Not when he delivers my cooking.”
I rolled my eyes. “Your ego is still overly inflated I see.”
Maurice winked. “Would my kitchen hold such a reputation if I did not, in fact, exude excellence?”
Jakob gave me a look from around Maurice’s back which had me fighting off a laugh. “Well your overly inflated ego aside, I came to see if I could reward all of your hard work with some cookies. I don’t mean to be in the way, I merely wondered when would be a good time?”
Multiple sets of eyes darted to Maurice, waiting for his answer.
“You heard the woman!” he barked. “Ten more minutes, then cookies!”
I turned to Rinaldi and another of the servers I recognized. “I will make extra and leave some for those of you busy serving the food.” I spun back toward Maurice, knowing how much of a bother it must be for me to show up right at the end of a massive meal prep. “I can go start the dough upstairs and be out of your way. Then I can return shortly to bake them. Deal?”
Maurice shook his head. “No. No deal. Sit your tush on a stool. We are finishing the presentation on the dishes now and they are gone.”
“And the dessert?” I asked.
Tilly put a hand on her hip and looked at me from over the top of her glasses. “Cheesecakes, which were all made last week and frozen.”
Maurice pointed. “Stool, Tiny. I demand it.”
Sparing Owen a glance, I did as I was told.
The last dishes on the counter were drizzled around the rims with a brilliant red sauce; raspberry, if I had to guess based on the color. In the center of each plate was a serving of mouthwatering roast and creamy potato mash. Then those dishes were loaded onto the carts and rolled out of the kitchen. The salads must have already gone out, then. And I noted the dessert carts were already loaded and waiting in the walk-in fridge, ready to go as well.
As soon as the last server left, Maurice began clapping, the others chiming in. There were pats on the back, hugs, and laughter all around.
These people reminded me so much of Nerede. Of a family that wasn’t blood, but chosen. Maurice didn’t just run a kitchen; he ran the family.
“Miss Demir,” George began. “Would you like your food down here?”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I’ll have whatever you are all having.”
Maurice glared at me and took the handful of food trays left, six for the six consorts, and slid one across the counter at me. “Eat. And then it’s time for the cookies.”
