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In the Shadows of the Kitchen

Author: A. L. Lacey
last update Last Updated: 2025-12-04 02:49:59

After that tense moment, my father dismissed me with a flick of his hand, ordering me back to my chambers as though I were a disobedient child. Humiliation burned through me hotter than the hearthfires, my fists clenching at my sides as I stormed away, my footsteps snapping against the cold stone floor. Heat flared in my cheeks, a pressure I couldn’t swallow down.

In my room, the air felt too still, too close. I paced the length of my bed like a caged animal, skirts swishing angrily with each turn. My thoughts chased themselves in restless circles. Why wouldn’t Father let me join Sir Garret? He wanted me in his order! Garret wanted me! It was all I’d ever dreamed of, yet Father kept me wrapped in silks and lace, a pretty ornament to be paraded before suitors I didn’t even like. Meanwhile, my brother was free to gallop off to quests, blades in hand, while my future was reduced to tea time with ladies I don’t like and serving a husband I didn’t truly choose. 

Why was my freedom locked away while my brother’s stretched wide open? Jealous sat sour in my stomach. 

The hours crawled by, each step I took etching invisible grooves into the stone. My heartbeat kept pace with my steps, fast, uneven.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Yes?” My voice cracked sharper than I intended. I was not in the mood for company.

The door creaked open. Hana peeked inside, her kind face framed by her laid’s maid cap, her smile soft but steady. “Are you hungry, dear?”

“Not really… but I suppose I should eat something.”

“Good,” she said with a mischievous quirk of her lips. “Let’s head to the kitchens.” That grin was enough, I knew Hana. She was up to something.

We slipped into the quieter servant halls, narrow passages lined with the scent of baking bread and old stone. Her steps were brisk, urgent, almost too quick for her usual calm manner. My pulse quickened to match, every part of me tingling with anticipation. Whatever awaited me at the end of this stolen walk, Hana’s glittering eyes told me it would be worth it.

And then I saw him.

“Garret!” The name leapt out of me as my feet carried me forward before thought could catch up. He caught me without hesitation, strong arms lifting me as he spun me once in a dizzying circle. Laughter rumbled in his chest, steady and warm. For a heartbeat, I let myself melt into that embrace.

“I’ve missed you too, little flower,” Sir Garret murmured his voice a comfort and steady strength, his smile kind, unguarded. I missed him so much.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said, my throat tight, eyes burning with tears I refused to shed. I wouldn’t cry, I wanted to be happy when I was with him. Not sad. 

“I wish I could stay longer,” he said gently, regret laced his voice. “but I’ll return as soon as I can.”

I tried to scowl, but my lips betrayed me with a grin. “As long as it’s not another five years.”

A rich laugh echoed from the corner. I turned to find a stranger, Carlin was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, green eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Since you’re here,” Sir Garret said, laughter in his tone “allow me to introduce Carlin properly.”

“My lady.” Carlin gave a playful mock of a bow, his smile disarming.

I curtsied with practiced grace, though my smile was genuine. “It’s a pleasure. I hope to hear a tale or two of your travels with Sir Garret.”

“Perhaps,” he replied with a mischievous glint.

But I couldn’t hold my question back any longer. I turned to Sir Garret, my voice lowering. “Tell me… the promise you made with my father, does it have something to do with why you want me to join you?”

For a moment, his smile lingered no longer genuine but forced. Then I noticed his eyes changed, sadness clouded them like storms rolling in on a beautiful day. “Sorry, little flower. That’s part of the deal. I can’t tell you until you’re twenty.”

Frustration knotted hot in my chest. “Fine. Then at least tell me about your order? I want to join.”

His jaw tightened. “You need your father’s permission. You’re not of age yet.”

“Exactly,” came a cold voice from the doorway.

I froze for a moment, all thought leaving my brain. My stomach sank as I bowed low. “Father.”

He stepped inside, his presence filling the kitchen like an oncoming storm. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, never once shifted from Sir Garret. 

“Why are you not in your chambers?”

“I was hungry,” I said quickly, “so I slipped to the kitchens. I only ran into Sir Garret and Carlin by chance. He reminded me I cannot join without your blessing, since I am not yet twenty.”

My father’s gaze swept between us, lingering on Sir Garret, calculating, weighing. “Was that all?”

“Yes, sir. I keep my promise to you,” Sir Garret replied evenly, but beneath his tone, bitterness seemed to coil like a hidden blade. 

“Fine.” My father’s voice was cold as iron. His words final. “Come, Nera. I have a luncheon arranged with your suitors and guests.”

As I turned to follow, Sir Garret caught my gaze. He pressed a finger to his lips, then flicked his hand in a subtle gesture: Library. Tonight.

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