Duty-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book II ]

63

"Of course you'd be in the very last place I came searching."

Mhera looked up, a sack of potatoes in her arms. She was wearing an apron over a plain dress, an appropriate outfit for a woman working in the kitchen. "Matei, what are you doing down here?"

Grinning at her expression of surprise, Matei said, "I have been trying to find my wife, a task I expected to be much easier than it turned out to be." He reached out to take the sack she carried, hoisting it under one arm. "Where do you want it?"

Nodding toward the larder, Mhera said, "Just on the floor in there. We were nearly done."

A sniff of disapproval came from near at hand. Matei, having divested himself of his burden by stowing the large sack in a dark corner of the larder, poked his head around the door to see Madam Gella standing with a list in one hand. "If Your Grace could be prevailed upon to talk some sense into Empress Mhera, it would be welcomed," she said.

Matei looked at Mhera, raising his eyebrows, catching her long-suffering expression. She said, "Madam Gella doesn't think it's proper for me to help in the kitchens."

"This is why we have kitchen girls," Gella said. With a pointed frown, she added, "Your Grace."

"We do have kitchen girls, all of whom worked extremely hard today preparing a meal that I happily ate," Mhera said. "All the extra work was my idea, anyway. They were exhausted, Madam."

"A feast now and then is to be expected. They're employed in a palace, Your Grace. They shouldn't expect to receive special treatment after a little extra work."

"Well," said Matei, "I'll help with the last of it and hopefully resolve this quarrel. By the way, Gella, the feast was a resounding success. I don't think I've ever heard Lord Elmarian say a kind thing about Councilor Siovan, but today he said she was 'wise, for a tattooed fishmonger.'"

Mhera laughed. "I nearly fell out of my seat." She led the way back through the kitchens. There was a set of narrow stairs there which took them up into the darkened courtyard whereby goods were delivered to the palace. There, a cart was being unloaded by a pair of Arcborn men. One of them passed another sack of potatoes into Matei's arms and another gave Mhera two baskets of apples.

Matei paused, looking at the cart. The last time he had been in this courtyard felt like a lifetime ago. He and Mhera, dressed as palace servants, had been making a dangerous escape. At that time, he'd been a condemned man and a fugitive. To stand there now as the Emperor of Penrua was an odd feeling indeed.

"Tem, do you think you can manage those casks?" Mhera asked as Matei headed back toward the stairs. "And that's the last of it, right?"

"Yes, Your Grace. I'll bring them down."

As he carried his burden down the stairs, Matei heard Mhera coming behind him, her footsteps slow and careful in the narrow passageway. He waited for her at the foot of the stairs and accompanied her back to the larder, where they both found places for the supplies.

"All done, Madam," Matei said, offering Gella a nod. "And I hope your work is nearly finished, too. It's been a long day for us all."

"So it has, Your Grace." Gella checked one final thing on her list and then folded it and tucked it into one of the many secret pockets she seemed to have hidden in her austere garments. "I shall bid both of Your Graces good night."

Mhera wrinkled her nose with impish good humor. "Shall I give you a kiss, or will you scold me for that, too?"

Gella couldn't hold back a smile. She leaned in to Mhera, and the two women exchanged kisses on the cheeks. Then Mhera looped her arm through Matei's and they walked together out of the kitchens. As they crossed the threshold, Mhera's two guards, who had been waiting outside, fell into step to accompany them.