Chapter 30 | The Queen Who Ruled by Herself

Baking and Stewing

The hottest thing in the kitchens that luncheon, as Jenks had suspected, was the head cook's temper. Chef Palks sat scowling in the corner watching Britt, the Sairish chef, and her second, a tall, lank-haired blond named Nessig, take over his kitchen. She was even ordering his underlings around--and worse, they were obeying her. "Cookie, dear," she said, waving Nessig over with a little pie hot from the oven, "have a taste and tell me, do, if it's salted to thy people's liking."

"Pies? You intend to serve peasant food to his majesty?!" said the head cook.

"That I do. T'is his favorite, and he ask't me fer it himself, he did."

"I wasn't referring to the king of Sairland," huffed the head cook. He grudgingly took the plate from Nessig and poked at the pie crust with a fork; a rich, unctuous, delicious aroma arose. He took up a forkful, examining it critically. The crust was perfect, flaky and tender. Inside were chunks of smoked haddock, tender bits of new potato, leeks and little fresh peas in a creamy gravy flecked with herbs. His stomach rumbled loudly and he scowled harder; Britt pretended not to notice and kept up her purposeful puttering among the pans.

Finally he put the forkful in his mouth, and his face dropped in astonishment. He took another bite, and another, until half the little pie was gone. "My gran," he said wonderingly. "I haven't eaten anything like this since my gran passed."

"Yes, Cookie, dear, but how's the salt?" said Britt solicitously.

"Salt?" said the head cook, blinking. "Fine, Miss Aneen, it's fine."

"My given name is Britt, and do thou be calling me that, if thou please't, Mister Palks."

The head cook smiled rather vaguely. "Very well, Britt, but please, call me Pennik."

Peace reigned at least temporarily in the kitchens, but outside the dining room the atmosphere was strained. Harsin, Ansella, Ellika, Temmin and Brinnid had been waiting for Sedra to appear. Only Brinnid seemed calm. Temmin's stomach had audibly growled at least once, Ellika was trying very hard not to dance from foot to foot with impatience, Ansella kept looking at the door and the Tremontine king was beginning to lose his temper. "If she isn't here in one minute--" he began to murmur to Winmer. But just then the doors opened and Sedra strolled in as if she hadn't kept everyone waiting fifteen minutes.

"Terribly sorry," she said airily. "I just got in from a long ramble and I didn't wish to appear in my walking skirts." Harsin gave her a look that would have reduced either of her siblings to a puddle, but she coolly took Brinnid's arm as she was expected to and let him lead her into the dining room.

Once everyone was seated, though, anyone who didn't know the situation would have assumed that Ellika was Brinnid's intended. She twinkled and smiled at the handsome Sairishman, and he twinkled and smiled right back. Harsin looked daggers at his youngest daughter, Ansella looked quietly alarmed, Sedra held herself aloof and Temmin missed the entire thing. "I say, Brinnid, this cook of yours is a gem!" he exclaimed.

"Indeed, Britt goes with me everywhere. To be sure, your kitchens have yet to send out anything other than a splendid repast, but I would be quite homesick without her. This is a traditional Sairish dish," said Brinnid, gesturing with his fork at the remains of his pie. "All the cooks in Sairland have a version, be they in a castle or a cottage. Britt's just happens to be the best."

While the rest of the meal in the dining room proceeded more or less tranquilly in spite of the tensions among the diners, in the kitchen tensions were about to resume. Jenks was tucked into a far corner of the servants' table, a bit disappointed that things were apparently calm between the rival cooks; he had been hoping for entertainment with his lunch.

His hopes rose when a great crash came from the scullery. Leaving the table, he peeked around the shadowy corner and saw Ania, the Sairish girl, staring in horror at a broken set of nesting bowls lying in pieces on the ground. "You stupid foreign cow!" Palks was screaming at her. "I don't know what they pay you in Sairland, but here those bowls are a year's wages for the likes of you!"

"Pennik," came a firm voice that Jenks recognized as Britt's, "be thou content. We will pay for the bowls, and Ania will pay for her clumsiness. Go and rest a wee in thy rooms. Dinner shift begins soon. I'll send a pot of tea up, eh? Off with thee."

Grumbling, the head cook took the short flight of stairs leading to the senior staff's floor, without seeming to notice that he'd just let another cook order him out of his kitchen. Ania was gathering up the broken pieces and tossing them into the bin, but stopped when she came to the hem of Britt's skirts. Weeping, the girl pressed a kiss on the toe of the cook's shoe. "None of that, missy," said Britt almost gently. "Up and over with thee."

Ania stood up, shaking, and bent over until she could grasp her own ankles. To the valet's astonishment, Britt then flipped the scullery maid's skirts up over her head, exposing her plain muslin drawers. The Sairish cook searched quickly through the scullery and found a long-handled wooden spoon. Jenks held his breath. "Six of the best, one for each bowl, little Ania," she said, and cracked the spoon across the girl's bottom.

Britt's face was serene and intent, focused on each stroke she gave. She worked methodically, letting each stroke resonate fully, and she placed them quite precisely, running her hand across the girl's bottom after each one as if to find the proper spot for the next. Ania cried out with the blows and moaned with the impersonal touch of Britt's hand, and it seemed to Jenks that each time her voice got a little breathier, her cries more urgent.

When the sixth stroke had fallen, Ania dropped to the floor and kissed Britt's shoe again, red-faced, weeping and smiling. "Now, now," said Britt, reaching down and helping the girl up off the tiled floor. "Now, then, Ania, next time don't thou be breaking the crockery, especially in another cook's kitchen. No need to make up a reason like this, just come to me in private when thou hast the need and I'll take care of thee. Dost feel better? Yes? Then off to the baths to collect thyself. Wash thy face and hands." She watched the girl hurry off down the hall towards the baths. "And thou, Mister Jenks," she said, not turning around. "Thou mayst see me in private, too, if tha has the same need. Oh yes," said Britt, finally turning as he stepped out of hiding toward her, "I could hear thy breathing. Noisy big thing, th'art."

Jenks stared into Britt's rosy face. "And what make you think I would be in need of such a service?" he said harshly.

Britt smiled warmly. "I knew it when I set eyes on thee. Nowt to be ashamed of, though I am curious as to why. I wouldn't have pegged thee fer it all else considered." She moved to pat his cheek, but he started back, turned on his heel and stalked from the scullery, leaving the rest of his luncheon behind. Britt watched him go, shaking her head and chuckling to herself.

Jenks had little time to himself in Temmin's study before the Teacher appeared at the door. "He's not back yet," said the valet abruptly, leaving the door open and returning to his work in the bedchamber.

"What's bothering you, Standfast Jenks?" said the Teacher, looking into the room with head cocked to one side.

"Nothing I would talk to you about," said Jenks stiffly, gathering up a pair of already-shiny boots. He left the rooms to have them fruitlessly polished further, nearly mowing Temmin down in the doorway.

Temmin stared after him, shrugged and turned to his tutor. "I don't understand what's going on with him, Teacher. He's changed."

"Expect change, your highness," said the Teacher. "Are you ready to continue?"

Temmin sat down and opened his book.

"We will break for tea and resume immediately, your highness," said the Teacher. "We have lost so much time I intend to take every moment I can get with you for a few days. Have you been telling your sister this story?"

"No," said Temmin, shaking his head. "She said she already knew it."

The Teacher blinked. "Already knew it? But I--that's not possible. Unless--well." Jenks came in with Temmin's tea. "I shall leave you to it."

"Already knew what, sir?" said Jenks absently after the Teacher left.

"Just a story, Jenks, that's all," said Temmin, lost in thought himself.