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The quiet clack of the door was the only sound that heralded the entrance of the last of the three maids. The room was otherwise quiet except for the soft ambient sounds of activity as the two previous occupants busied themselves with a variety of mundane chores. Tucked away in the corner of the Alternian castle, the kitchen was not often exposed to external noises or extraneous distractions; it was, however, full of the rich smells of food preparation and the warm glow of the hearth…and the carefully gleaned secrets concerning the other residents of the fortress.
Porrim sank into a chair with a sigh. The center table in front of her was covered with dishes in various states of completion; a large fireplace on the opposite wall was home to a hefty pot, currently being attended to by a homely young woman with light blue trim on her uniform. At the counter on the adjacent wall, the third maid cut vegetables with alarming speed and sharp precision, her wild hair pulled back carefully around her imposing horns.
Jane turned slightly to glance at Porrim before resuming her stirring. “A bit early today, hmm?”
“Yes, well, Kanny caught me reorganizing his socks, so I’m laying low for a bit to avoid his tantrums,” Porrim responded, an amused smile playing on her lips.
Jane chucked a soft “hoo hoo!” while Porrim began to sift through the available chores left to be done. There were still a few hours before dinner, so it was a fairly slow time aside from the mundane cooking and busywork yet to be done. She decided to busy herself with folding some of the clean clothes stacked in the corner.
“If he were half as sweet as the kid you nannied, I’d almost call him cute,” Porrim sighed to Jane as she cleared some space. “But no, instead he’s an insufferable brat.”
“Well, he is at that age where kids become embarrassed by their parents, and you’re practically his mother,” Jane mused. Her smiled broadened slightly. “Although I did catch some luck. John is such a nice boy, and he’s becoming a heck of a good prankster! Just the other day, I saw him sneaking down the hall wearing a fake beard and—“
“Where do you want these vegetables?” Aradia interrupted cheerfully.
“Oh, over in that pan is fine, thank you,” Jane responded. She paused for a second. “Yes, John’s growing up to be a fine young man.”
“Time passes too quickly,” Porrim murmured softly.
“And then you die,” Aradia murmured contentedly.
Jane grimaced slightly. “That’s a...um...a fairly morbid train of thought.”
“Everything dies! There’s nothing to get upset about,” Aradia settled in a chair across from Porrim.
“Don’t mind it too much, Jane. Alternian trolls just have a few...cultural differences,” Porrim sighed, but she nonetheless glanced curiously at Aradia. “They tend to be more violent than we are.”
“I can imagine why! Your prince has a few bats in the belfry,” Jane directed at Aradia before returning her attention to the stew at the hearth. “If your royalty wasn’t completely incompetent, Alternia would be terrifying.”
“Oh, he’s not completely incompetent,” Aradia mused. “Only mostly. He kills lots of things...just not usually what he’s supposed to.”
“Yeah, like the hope that maybe we could have a couple years to relax without worrying about another overzealous war threat,” Jane grumbled. “You know, we’ve had three huge peace negotiations in the past two years? That’s a little ridiculous, to say the least...”
Porrim smirked wryly. “Look on the bright side: at least we’ve all got to know each other well. And having all three kingdoms in one fortress certain provides some...interesting gossip.”
“Well, yes, there is that. But that brings up another thing I don’t understand!” Jane huffed. “Why in the world would Prince Eridan be so hellbent on blowing everything to high heaven when you guys have so much overlap? I mean, a lot of Alternian and Beforian trolls are related, right?”
Porrim frowned thoughtfully. “Well, sort of. The way we relate is a bit different than the way humans do...it’s a lot looser, I think. But yes, in some ways a lot of us have familial bonds with each other. Especially higher in the court, it’s not uncommon for prestige to be shared among bloodlines. Take the Captors, for instance.”
Jane paused in her stirring, her brow furrowed. “Captor...that’s the heir to Beforus, right? Is there a Captor in the Alternian court?”
Aradia laughed. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember! He’s pretty much always a moody, asocial asshole. He’s the court mage.”
“I thought you were pale for him,” Porrim remarked.
“Oh, I am. He’s still a moody, asocial asshole, though! But Eridan doesn’t care about any of that. He doesn’t have a strong blood tie to Beforus, and he basically hates the only guy related to him, as well as any troll below him on the hemospectrum.”
“Who’s he related to?” Jane glanced over at the trolls. Other than the times when the courts of the three kingdoms met to discuss political matters, the humans did not often interact with the troll kingdoms, so she always became curious whenever the subject of relations and relationships came up.
“The court bard,” Aradia laughed, and Porrim joined her. “Which is pretty funny because I think it’s the same thing with the Beforus prince.”
“It is,” Porrim chuckled.
Jane, however, looked a little surprised. “Isn’t it strange for a prince to be related to a bard? I would think they would have a little higher status...”
Porrim leaned in a little. “It’s political. If their relatives had any more social power, they could present a problem. The princes already have heirs, so they don’t want any trouble.”
“Especially not Eridan! He hates his kin. Says that he’s too romantically desperate, which is actually kind of funny coming from him,” Aradia said gleefully.
“Well, Cronus certainly has trouble catching a hint,” Porrim sighed as she sat back again.
“Wow...that’s saying a lot if even you think so,” Jane murmured.
Instead of being bothered, the corners of Porrim’s mouth pulled into a smirk. “You better watch out: I’ll be moving on to your court next...unless there’s anyone I should be avoiding?”
“Hm? No, I don’t think we have anyone quite so...distasteful.”
“Do you want me to avoid anyone?”
“What? Why would I--”
“Waxing red?”
“Oh.” Jane quickly went pink and turned abruptly back to the hearth. “Of course not!”
“Come on, Jane. I’ve been around the block a few times. I can tell it’s been on your mind.”
Jane glanced over a few times, growing redder each time. “Well...our knight got a new page, but he’s much too young for me!”
Porrim quirked an eyebrow. “Is he legal?”
Jane, now a deep shade of scarlet, stirred furiously without looking up. “Yes! ...Barely! But that’s not the point! It’s not happening!”
“Scandalous, Jane! But don’t be so negative. It could happen--you’re not that old. It’s less than a decade, at least.”
Aradia, who had been observing with a grin on her face, chirped, “What’s he like, Jane?”
“No! Nope! We’re not going down this road!”
“Isn’t he the dapper young man? The kind of dim one that wears exceedingly short bottoms?” Porrim mused.
“Oh, him!” Aradia lit up. “He’s the witch’s grandson!”
Jane stopped abruptly. “Come again?”
“One of the three witches. He’s her grandson.”
Porrim and Jane exchanged glances. “That’s not possible,” Jane finally replied before returning to stir. Her eyes were thoughtful, yet somber. “The witches haven’t been heard from in years. They’re probably all dead by now, and they certainly don’t have any relatives that would be accepted in polite society.”
Aradia’s grin broadened almost maniacally, but she didn’t reply. Silence settled on the room. Finally, Porrim smiled slightly and offered, “I can help set you two up.”
“Absolutely not!”