A Prince's Errand [PREVIEW] ✔️ | Book One of TALES OF THE AMULET

Chapter 1 - Homestead

"I come, clothed in red.

I alight the mind like flame.

I show the past, the future, and the present."

- 7th Verse from the Feast of Sorrows

Seven Months Later

The sweet aroma of pastries tingled Iltar's senses. Baked furnapel always evoked reminiscent memories from his childhood, especially when he smelled them here in his family's home. He strode down a hallway toward the kitchen, where the tantalizing aroma grew stronger. For a moment, he thought he was a child again, peering around the corner to spy on his mother's cooking. Those were fond days. Days that were decades past.

Iltar's gaze was drawn to a short, portly man sitting in a wooden chair beside a table. He was a groom named Hegdil.

Hegdil was staring across the kitchen with an admiring grin. "That smells so good, Belsina!"

"None for you!" a woman's voice sternly scolded from the kitchen. "That is, unless you chop so'more wood."

Hegdil frowned and then noticed Iltar. "Good morning, Master Iltar." He sounded chipper, despite Belsina's sternness.

Iltar nodded and entered the kitchen. It had changed little over the years. Cabinets and countertops made of light-brown wood lined the walls to the left. A wood-burning stove where Belsina was removing a cast-iron cooking sheet squatted between a pair of cabinets.

Belsina turned, gently setting the sheet on flat stones atop an island at the kitchen's center. Her hair was a dull brown, tied back in a ponytail. She wasn't a beautiful woman by any means, but she wasn't ugly either. She was plain, to say the least. Belsina never wore makeup. Iltar didn't know why. He paid her enough to afford such things.

She smiled at Iltar, and the wrinkles around her eyes became more pro-nounced. "This is the first batch." Belsina motioned to the cooking sheet. "I can also make some tangrils. Delrin brought brandleberries from Cornar's orchard last night. So, I can make a batch of those if you'd like."

Iltar raised his brow. Brandleberries for children? How absurd.

"You can make a batch," he said, reluctantly. "But the brandleberries will be for us." Iltar shot a glance to Hegdil, who rubbed his hands giddily. Though the man was in his forties, he acted childish when it involved food. Especially good food.

"As you wish." Belsina rolled her eyes. She moved to another part of the kitchen, grabbing uncooked pastries and placing them on another cast-iron cooking sheet. "Are they here yet?"

Iltar shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. "They're late. Hopefully, Pagus didn't get distracted."

"The boy's got a mind of his own," Hegdil said frankly. "He's a bit of a rebel. I can see why his family wanted you to teach him."