Conquering The Unbroken

Chapter 14

After serving an entire meal for the community of rebels, scheduled within hours of each other as all those meals can't be cooked at once, I finally take a seat in the community kitchens to rest my exhausted legs. Long ago, before I started cleaning the kitchens and the dining area after dinner was served, Dalis left to go to bed.

She's been on her feet all day, cooking meals and preparing the next for each batch of rebels to come in and eat her delicious food. Times like this I'm reminded of when my parents were still alive and everything was normal. I spent hours in the community kitchens, helping the mortal witches prepare meals for the refugees. Back then, they were looking for second chances. Now, the people here are out for blood.

Dalis isn't the first witch of water to work in the community kitchens and I hope she won't be the last. But, by far, she's the most productive and, after years of working in the castle kitchens with Mills at her side, can create far better meals for the rebels to scarf down. I've never seen someone have so much variation when it comes to cooking fish and preparing sides to go with it.

I can hardly chew fish anymore without grimacing, but Dalis's flavors are new and exciting—they bring along a different taste every time and I have trouble, along with the rest of the rebels, not wondering what she'll come up with next.

I run my hands over my face and completely ignore the fact they're covered in flour. Today, for dinner, the fish was fried. Around a bread coating, heavily salted for flavor, the fish was delectably light and airy on the tongue. How Dalis can master such a skill...I'll never know. I may not be the best cook, but at least I can provide a bit of expertise when chopping vegetables or breading the fish for frying.

After one brutal attempt at frying the fish myself, Dalis took over with a quick scolding towards my impatient, sloppy technique. Now, sitting in the dining area of the community kitchens, I wish she would have fried up one more fish for my dinner. I'm stuck with an apple, two raw carrots that I'll have to choke down, and a slice of raw fish left behind on the counter in case a rebel comes back and looks for seconds.

I'm about ready to lay my head on the table from hunger and exhaustion when I hear Celestine's voice calling out to me from the hallway. I don't have the strength to call back; she'll find me, eventually. If she doesn't, I'll tell her later to be thorough in her pursuits to find me in a village that holds more hiding spots than people.

The tables are empty; the plates are cleaned in the kitchens, and the only thing left to assist is myself. I'm covered in an array of foods from dinner, splattered or smeared against the white apron tied around my waist. The only thing in the community kitchens is me, sitting with my back to the door, hunched over the splintered table—a twin to the bench.

"There you are!" Celestine exclaims from behind. The floorboards creak underneath her boots and I look behind me to flash her a weak smile. Compared to my condition, she's as bouncy and lively as ever. One of the traits I admire most about my sister is her inability to drag herself so far under that she can barely resurface again. "I've been looking for you everywhere. Dalis said you'd be home by now, but when I got there, Renit said you'd probably be training with Citlali, but she said you were probably at the community kitchens. So I circled." She shrugs and sits down on the bench opposite of mine, bracing her hands against the table to lower herself slowly.

Not only did Celestine inherit nearly every physical trait from my mother, but her mannerisms are the same, too. The way they move, like princesses, is nearly identical to each other. I may not have a semblance of my father left behind, but when I look at Celestine, I spot my mother there in her smile, her bright eyes, and her cheerful nature.