Chapter Text
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“Arturia, everyone is waiting.”
Arturia brought down the axe with precision again, without looking away from her task.
“The stew is already done, I’m coming.”
The old man grunted, chewing on his cigar.
“The clients are hungry; you can chop wood later.”
She put down the tool and picked up the chopped logs, looking up at him briefly.
“The fire is dying out, and there is still another pot of stew that needs to be warmed, for which we need wood. But I’m finished.”
He shook his head, mildly exasperated.
“I can’t even get upset at your stubbornness… It’s thanks to your infinite energy that this place is running so smoothly.”
He shook his head again at the girl he had taken under his wing a few years before, and watched as she nodded at him and brought her heavy load inside the kitchen, where she took the cleaning rags. She had already washed all the dishes earlier and was almost finished with the tidying up of the entire inn.
Ever since her father had died, leaving her only her horse but otherwise in complete poverty, she had been living there, as the inn owner had taken her in. He had known her father Uther and respected him as an integer man; he could hardly leave his young daughter to fend for herself. But since he wasn’t rich, he had asked for her cooperation in running the place, as he was getting a little too old to manage everything on his own.
Arturia had tenaciously started to work hard, as she did not intend to make him regret offering her a place to stay. She couldn’t say she was fond of some parts of her job, and she knew that the inn owner did not care much for her and only valued her presence because of her skills, but nevertheless, it gave her the opportunity to live respectably, and she was grateful for that.
She removed her gloves after taking out a few things from the oven and quickly reached for her apron, as it was indeed time to take lunch to the clients. The kitchen was next to the main hall where she was going to serve the stew, which was very convenient to carry the food more easily, as the owner’s two elderly sisters always repeated.
It wasn’t unusual for her to have so much work to do, but these past few days had been particularly hectic because of the interesting news that had sent the entire town into a frenzy.
Up in the mountains, very well hidden and so difficult to find that its existence itself had become somewhat a legend, there was rumoured to be a mysterious village. It was said to be isolated so well because it was rich beyond measure; in fact, it was said to be entirely made of gold. Most of the time this was simply considered to be one of the many exaggerated stories travellers told when coming across the little city, but now things had changed.
The leader – or king – of the mythical village had come himself to visit town.
Everyone had, at the very least, held some curiosity towards this mysterious person; and from what Arturia had heard – as she had not seen him yet – he had more than lived up to the rumours that called him rich, handsome and regal, filling anyone who had the chance of getting a glimpse of him with awe.
The townspeople had quickly decided that they intended to make a good impression on the powerful stranger, and since his arrival, there had been a bustling of activity all over. Even the inn owner had been caught by such a contagious agitation, and Arturia had been given tons of extra chores.
Privately, she found it a bit unreasonable. The inn was well liked in town because it was a sufficiently respectable and quite welcoming place, but the chances of the strange king coming there were close to non-existent. It was therefore quite pointless to indulge into unnecessary work around the rooms, even though she knew that indeed, since people loved to gossip, the inn was their favourite place to gather and talk. It was not surprising, therefore, that there were so many customers these days. And that meant that there was much more work to do, because nothing but perfect service was to be offered to the clients, so the place had to be spotless clean – as always – and functioning at its best.
She held back from sighing as she took the hot pot of stew, ready to go to serve lunch.
The old owner insisted that they always had to be ready in case someone of higher importance came there, but she was still very sceptical about such a reasoning. People mostly came there to simply share anecdotes about the glimpses they had gotten of the mysterious visitor; there was therefore no need to get particularly worked up on such a normal day.
But the heavy pot almost fell from her arms as she finally entered the main hall – and he was sitting right there.
She had not expected the foreign king to be there at the inn – much less to meet his gaze.
Yet there he was, and he was staring at her.
He was staring… as if he had been waiting for her.
However, such a thought was ridiculous. She should stop being so foolish in imagining things. She concentrated on keeping the pot steady in her arms, and fought hard not to blink.
The descriptions she had heard of him were accurate. Spiked up golden hair – kissed by sun, a traveller had once murmured – haughty and implacable crimson eyes, kingly countenance, suitable clothes for his status… His mere presence caught the eye of every person in the room, and even if he was sitting at one of the tables like everyone else, it was obvious that no one dared come closer to him, no small amount of respectful fear keeping them frozen in their places.
Gathering her courage, Arturia tried to keep her features composed into a polite smile and started to serve lunch to the first table next to her, going from one person to the other as calmly as her fast-beating heart allowed it.
Slowly, but quicker than she would have wished, she found herself at the foreigner’s table.
Aware of the fact that everyone else was observing her every action and trying to eavesdrop, she gave another polite but tight smile.
“Would you like to have the house’s lunch, sir?” she offered, as she did with everyone who wasn’t a usual patron.
Being so close to him, she could observe him better. He was staring straight into her eyes, and his features – very handsome ones – were currently unreadable, but she had a hunch that, should he wish it, he would be able to make them be very expressive. However, he was a person obviously used to showing only what he wanted to be seen, and clearly someone used to having his own way.
He wordlessly inclined his head a fraction, without breaking eye contact, letting her know that he did indeed want a meal. She tore her gaze away to fill his plate warily, concentrating on holding the ladle firmly even as her hand betrayed her by trembling a little, before turning around to approach the next table.
She hadn’t even had the time to let out a small breath of relief when he suddenly spoke up behind her, making her freeze.
“You haven’t given me any condiment to go together with the stew.”
She turned around to face him again, her composed expression still in place, but she was fully aware of the complete silence in the room. Everyone was obviously waiting to see how she would reply, and if she had not been imagining things again, from the small glint she thought she had seen in the foreigner’s eyes, he seemed actually interested in hearing her answer as well.
“This stew can stand on its own feet, sir, I assure you. Please give it a try.”
There were many gasps in the room, as people were obviously shocked by such a reply. It was nothing unusual for Arturia to politely stand her ground, but to keep doing so in front of an awe-inspiring stranger was quite the feat – and many wondered if she had gone too far.
The blond man held her gaze and then, without breaking it, slowly brought a forkful of the stew to his mouth and chewed on it even more slowly.
The entire inn held its breath.
He looked down at the plate and then back at Arturia, before astonishing everyone by giving a short, small nod.
“It is… satisfactory.”
Knowing that he was still a client and she could not push her luck – while she had never intended to back down, she knew that she had to be careful with unknown foreigners – she returned his nod and went on to serve lunch to everyone else as well.
But inwardly, all she could hear was her heart beating incredibly fast. As soon as she had finished serving everyone their lunch and was back in the kitchen, she took a deep breath and carefully, making an effort to pay attention to her task, started to put more wood on the fire hearth.
She could try to stifle it and hide it from prying eyes, but she could not lie to herself. The moment she had met those crimson eyes, she had felt a shock running through her. He had seemed fixated on her, and in some odd way, she was actually grateful for it, because it had not made too noticeable the fact that she was equally fixated on him.
What was going on with her?
If he caused such worrisome feelings in her, it was best if she kept away from him.
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