Chasing Tides | Throne of Glass

VII

conor

A scout named Bas was waiting in the corridor outside their chambers when they were done. Sam left for the stables, led by the mentioned, whilst Celaena found Rowan waiting for her leaning against a wall, arms crossed and eyes closed, as if he hadn't really been expecting her to wake up in time. He creaked open a sharp, lazy immortal eye as she approached, jaws widening in a large yawn. Celaena gave him her best simper. Rowan led her to the kitchens, where a welcoming aroma immediately hit her senses as they neared a great oak door, slightly ajar to reveal the light and warmth spilling outside onto the stone corridor. There was the sound of merry chatter, too, two voices mingling together amongst the sizzling of vegetables and meats and the clatter of dishes. Rowan hardly said anything as he pushed open the door and practically dragged her through. His opening remark only solidified his image as an asshole, not bothering with even a greeting. 'Your new scullery maid. She'll work the morning shifts with you.'

Two faces turned to stare at her – one older and more withered, but eyes still bright, the other much younger with a head full of dark hair. He was so young, in fact, that he seemed to have just started losing the baby fat from childhood. He was perhaps a few years younger than her. They both stared at her for a moment, gazes filled with nothing but surprise – until the older man said, 'Good. Another helping hand will be well-received here.'

And that was that. She let it a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, in some stupid fear maybe that they wouldn't have been willing to accept her. But none of them questioned who she was. 'What's your name?' the younger asked curiously. 'I'm Luca, this is Emrys.'

She noted the point of his ears that peeked out from under his short hair. A marker of his heritage. They were both demi-Fae. Celaena looked at Luca's expectant eyes. 'I'm Elentiya.' Rowan had only told her to choose a name as they'd walked here, with the additional taunt of 'if she was so desperate to hide'. But she now turned to Rowan, eyes burning, just daring him to say something about the name Nehemia had given her. If he did... she'd skin him alive. Well, try to, at least.

To her annoyance, he chose to say nothing. Instead, he simply nodded at her and said, 'I will see you in a few hours.'

Emrys looked at her as Lucas let out a great dramatic sigh of relief at Rowan's disappearance. She couldn't blame him. The Fae male's presence was incredibly stifling in close proximity – an indication of the sheer depth of his powers. To make matters worse, his temperament only served to darken the atmosphere. The old man asked, 'Ever worked in a kitchen before?'

She was tempted to make a snarky comment on how she could use a knife, but opting to stay quiet, replied, 'No. I learn quickly, though.'

Emrys was a man of no-nonsense, it seemed, for he only briskly nodded and said, 'Finish chopping the onions for me, then. I'll get started on the casserole.' Celaena was almost happy to work here, especially given the environment. She wondered how Sam was getting on. A stable boy had led their horses away on the first day of their arrival at Mistward; would they be working together? Or would he be alone? Would Sam be well-received here, as a human and not demi-Fae? The worries clouded her thoughts as she sliced the onions neatly and evenly lengthways then width-ways. Celaena found Lucas staring, jaw slack, from where he monitored a simmering pot above a stove. 'Gods above. What happened to your hands?'

'Adarlan happened,' she said, laying down the knife and sticking out both palms for Luca to ogle at. They were peppered with scars, and she hadn't tended to her nails in weeks, so they looked dirty and jagged. Celaena didn't feel like providing any further explanation, but what she had said was enough for them to know that such was a life in Adarlan. Of course, it likely was by no means easy here, either.