Spooks and Shadows

8) The Origins

Lady Maria Penhall, wife of my surly teacher, was stunning, to say the least. Yes, she was pale and had deep circles under her eyes but the way she carried herself made me see her as... regal. The moment she appeared in the arms of Lord Solomon, I couldn't help but gawk. She wore a modest dress as black as the night and her long, shiny hair was so straight it made me want to run my fingers through it. When she saw me, she wasted no breath and embraced me in her delicate arms.

"My dear child, you've grown since I last saw you," she cooed. Her eyes were soft and kind and she smelled like roses. I couldn't help but think that she was a stark contrast from grumpy Mr. Lockworth.

"Lady Maria," I greeted.

"Oh just call me Maria, sweetling. I used to come visit you when you were so very young. Your mother and I were the best of friends," she said cheerfully.

Lord Solomon only grunted in acknowledgement.

The three of us sat in the very unnecessarily long table. The maids darted in and out, placing more food neither of us could possibly finish. I could see Miss Feckelton in the hall that lead to the kitchens, shepherding the maids and I imagined her frazzled voice: "Go, go, go!"

I chuckled to myself then turned my attention to the table. I frowned at the food in front of us suspiciously, none of them I recognized. The bowl of soup in my plate was unappetizingly green, with unidentified substance floating in the surface. On my right sat a plate of eggs abnormally large. The loaf of bread was uncharacteristically purple and it wasn't yam flavored because the smell didn't strike me as familiar. Pelly poured a glass of... I didn't know what it was. The liquid was red and diluted and I grimaced. None of these looked edible.

Lord Solomon sensed my discomfort. "I assure you that these foods taste a hundred times better than those bland human foods, Lady Emilia."

"I, er, sorry but I still haven't acclimated to the food here," I said, holding the vomit I was about to heave. My mind took me back to the party yesterday and those moving tentacles and eyeball soup made my stomach churn. I slapped a hand on my mouth, not caring if it was impolite. It will be much more disastrous if I emptied my stomach right in front of them.

"Solomon, the child is getting sick," Maria said worriedly. She rang the bell and a maid came forward. "What would you like to eat instead, darling?"

"I, uh, do you have normal eggs? I mean chicken eggs. Quail eggs are fine too." My tone sounded pleading. I'd eat a broccoli over this monster food any day. In fact, those whispering pumpkins seemed appetizing.

"No, my lady. All we have are snake eggs and—"

"Snake eggs?!" I choked.

"Bah!" grumbled Lord Solomon. He waved the maid away. "We can't have you being picky. When you were a child, you ate anything." He took the plate of the huge sunny-side up eggs and sliced a piece. He proceeded to slip it on my plate and I winced. "Dragon eggs are far better. Heed my words, Little Emily. Take one taste and if you don't like it, I'll order someone to scour the human world for puny chicken eggs."