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“What are you doing here?” Astrid sounded a bit like that nun who had worked at the church back on Rhodes.
Hector had not seen her, though he had somewhat known she would be in the kitchens. “I was hoping for some cake.”
“Huh.” She smiled at him. “At least you’re honest.” She was sweaty, which was not much of a surprise given the ovens were all burning and feeling the back part of the kitchens with quite a bit of heat. The fabric covering her hair was just a bit dirty from what looked to have been some ash.
He smiled at her. “I know that it would be useless to lie to you.”
“Right you are,” she said. “But you did pick in inopportune time to show up here. We a busy, as you can see.”
Admittedly, he could see it. The kitchen hands were all either tending to the ovens, stirring some bowls, or hovering over pots on the stoves. The smell filling the kitchen was one of honey, berries, and that certain specific scent of baked goods. Well, all of that, and the strong scent of the wood being burned.
“You will get some when everything is ready,” Astrid said. “But for the moment, could you please…”
Hector barely held in a sigh, but he nodded. “I am sorry. I did not mean to distract you.”
His stomach was growling. He had been hungry to begin with – it was why he had come to the castle kitchens – but the smell had not improved that situation. It did smell nice, after all. The cakes being prepared.
Maybe Astrid knew him too well. She might not have heard his stomach growl but she clearly had sensed something, as she gave a rather big and melodramatic sigh. “Really, Hector, I do wonder how you managed to survive on your own.”
“Luck,” he said. “Mostly luck.”
“And some sort of divine blessing,” she muttered, before walking off for a moment. She was not gone long though, before returning.
Not with one of the cakes, though. Just half a loaf of bread, and some of the berry sauce. “You have to wait for the cake like everyone else,” she said, as she saw the clear disappointment in his eyes. “But being kindhearted as I am, I will not let you poor, useless man starve.”
“Right,” he said.
“Be thankful,” she said, holding the wooden board on which she was transporting the food away from him.
He gave in. “Thank you, Astrid. You are my savior.”
“I know,” she handed him the board. “And really, one should think that living in a castle with a lot of people who do have healthier habits than you should remind you of eating regularly.”
“One should think so, I guess.” He put the wooden board on the edge of one of the workplaces, ripping off some of the bread. At least it was fresher than he had anticipated, the crumb being still rather soft and spongy, as he dipped it into the sauce.
“You manage to feed the animals regularly,” she reprimanded him.
Hector did not reply. Mostly because she was indeed right. It was him feeding the chickens, and it was him usually being at the stables when the horses were fed. Partially because Cornuet would pout if Hector was not there to feed him. (He might have been spoiling the stallion a bit too much.)
“So why is it you do not manage to feed yourself?” Astrid asked.
“I am busy. And I forget about it,” he replied.
“You do not even have to cook for yourself.”
“I still forget it,” he said.
She sighed, shaking her head.
When she did not say anything else, but just stood there, he ripped another bit of the bread dunking it into the sauce. “I thought you were busy.”
She turned away from him. “I am.” With that he went off to join the others, as he took his bread and disappeared from the kitchen.
There would be cake tonight. Cheese cake, to celebrate the cows returning from the alms. And admittedly he was looking forward to it. He just had to make sure he was there in time. After all he was likely not the only one waiting.
Standing in the door to the kitchens he turned around one last time, but glimpsing Astrid’s gaze, he knew how to disappear rather quickly. Maybe in a few hours times the kitchen were safe again. But for the moment he did not want to occur the wrath of one of the workers.
Of course he knew the woman to be right. His stomach was grumbling rather harshly, reminding him that he had indeed not eaten since last night.
When he had started to pray with Isaac, for a while he had been better about it. About eating in regular intervals. But then a new habit had set in, and he had once more told himself that he could eat just a bit later.
“Did you go begging for scraps once more, kitten?” Someone reached over his shoulder, snagging the bread from him.
“Striga.” He turned around.
“Admittedly, you are not quite a cat in that sense, are you? At least cats know how to keep themselves fed, and will complain even before they are hungry.” She held the bread up, though he was not up for this kind of game.
He looked at her. “Are you done?”
It was clear she was at least a bit disappointed that he did not react. But she gave the bread back. “I should tell your boyfriend you have been starving yourself again.”
“I did not starve myself. I just forgot to eat.”
She shook her head. “You are in fact quite useless at taking care of yourself.”
“I was already told that today.” He sighed. “So, may I eat now? Or would you prefer to talk about me not eating first.”
She laughed. “Okay, okay, kitten. No need to hiss.”
“I will never live that one down, will I?” He took the bread, dunking it again before it could be stolen once more. At least the sweet tartness of the sauce was calming something inside of him.
“Hmm, maybe one day,” Striga said.
He ate the last bit of bread. “I think I am not going to wait for that,” he muttered.
She ruffled his hair, making him duck away from her once more.
“You do need someone to look after you,” she said.
“I did survive on my own,” he muttered.
“I know,” she said, before turning away from his as well. “But I have to say, it is probably the closest thing to an actual miracle I have seen. And I have been alive for a while.”
“Undead…”
“Oh, are we getting argumentative?”
“Maybe a bit,” he said.
It made her laugh. “Fair enough. I guess you earned yourself a bit of that.”
“I sure hope so.” He turned to go as well. “There will be cake later on, you know?”
“I know,” she said. “Make sure you get some of it.”
“If I don’t forget.” He smiled over his shoulder, before finally leaving. He was not entirely sure about that after all.
