Chapter 1979: Family Dinner (Part One)

"Are you getting enough to eat? Are you even sleeping? Even if you’ve been cooped up in the dead of winter, your complexion is worrying, dear..."

For a moment, Ashlynn didn’t know how to respond to her mother’s concern. A sense of warmth filled her heart when her mother reached out with a simple touch on her brow, the way her mother had checked on her when she suffered a fever or the chills as a child. Some things never changed. But the reason she looked so pale...

"She always works too hard," Nyrielle said, mirroring Maela’s concerned tone as she wrapped an arm around Ashlynn, pulling her close enough to bestow a brief kiss on her cheek. "I wonder, is that something she learned from her father, or do I have you to blame for that, Mother-in-law?" Nyrielle asked in a light, languid tone.

"Pfft," Jocelynn giggled, coming to Ashlynn’s rescue. "Blame Father," she said. "At one point, Mother had to order the staff to drain oil from the lamps in Father’s office so he wouldn’t work so late into the night," she teased.

"That only worked in winter," Maela said, shaking her head at the memory of it. "And only for a single season. He’s been pushing himself harder than he should these past few years, ever since getting involved with, um," she started to say before her voice trailed off as she ran into a distinctly awkward topic with the force of a dromon running aground.

Ever since he’d thrown his support behind Bors Lothian’s Holy War.

They all knew it, but saying it here, in the castle of the woman that the Holy War had been intended to defeat, seemed more than a little tactless.

"You don’t need to worry, Mother," Ashlynn said once she’d regained her composure. "I intend to spend the next several days doing mostly relaxing things now that we’re back in the Vale. I promised Jocey a shopping trip with Adala and Charlotte," she mentioned. "You and Micheline are welcome to join us as well," she offered.

"I’ll leave it to you," Maela said, shaking her head at the offer. "Some things are meant to be joys for the young," she said, smiling at her daughters and niece.

"Are you saying I shouldn’t join them, Mother-in-law?" Nyrielle teased with a mischievous twinkle in her midnight eyes. "Am I too old for a shopping trip? The last time my darling took me out to shop for jewelry I had a lovely time."

"That’s different," Maela said, manifesting the calm, quiet dignity of a countess as she faced her daughter-in-law. "If Rhys were here, I’d drag him the length of the merchant’s quarter twice in search of the perfect scarf or earrings," she said. "After all the secrets he seems to have kept from us, he owes me that much at least," she declared.

"You’re never too old to shop for your love," Maela said. "But Ash and Jocey are well past the age where they need their mother to follow along behind them and mind their purse strings," she said.

"I hope to hear from Father soon," Ashlynn said, pursing her lips for a moment and furrowing her brow. "Wolstan should be able to reach him with our letters fairly quickly. It would be good if he could meet us in Keating this spring and then we can all have a long chat with him."

"You really think Duke Argidir will receive you this spring?" Micheline asked. "Meeting with a Great Witch is heresy in the eyes of the Church and treason in the eyes of the Crown. He may spend the rest of the winter raising an army to stop you at the border."

"It won’t work," Ashlynn said, shaking her head. "Even if he massed an army along the border, the Little Horns aren’t so treacherous as to be impassable for a small force moving cross country. The dense forests might be impassable to his forces, but if he thinks they’re a barrier to the Mother of Trees then he’s a fool, and nothing Father or Uncle Dylan ever said about him made me think he was incompetent," she said.

"Besides, Argidir should understand that the time isn’t ripe to fight a war," Ashlynn added. "If he wants to face us, then he needs reinforcements from the Church, both in Gaal and from across the sea. At the very least, talking lets him stall for time."

"He just needs to understand how dangerous facing us would be," Ashlynn concluded, looking at her cousin across the table. "And for that..."

"Enough, darling," Nyrielle interrupted. "Georg is almost here with his first course, and I, for one, had enough of discussing human lords and speculating about their intentions during my stay in that dreadful city," she said, sounding as if she’d endured a grueling ordeal.

"You’re right," Ashlynn said, leaning up against Nyrielle and drawing a bit of strength from her lover to deliberately set aside the worries of the empire and refocus herself on her time with her family.

"The business of the empire has no business at the table tonight," Ashlynn said. "This time is for family. And for Georg’s food," she said, turning toward the door.

A few heartbeats later, there was a polite knock at the door, followed by the emergence of a towering, bearish individual dressed in a neat tunic and trousers. In his hands, he carried a large silver tray covered by a brightly polished silver dome.

"My ladies," Georg said, giving a slight bow as he entered. "I came as soon as I heard you were ready," he said, quickly crossing the room to set the silver tray on the table.

"Georg," Ashlynn said warmly, beckoning for him to come to her as she stood up from her seat. She kept one hand on the back of the chair, supporting herself until he arrived before her, at which point she threw her arms around him in a hug that caught Maela and Micheline off guard but seemed completely expected by the furry chef.

"I’ve missed you," Ashlynn said, pulling back and giving the Eldritch Master of Kitchens a smile that was bright enough to light up the room.

"You mean you’ve missed my cooking," Georg said with a deep, belly-shaking laugh.

"No," Ashlynn said, shaking her head. "I’ve missed you. I’ve missed our talks in the kitchen and learning your tricks and your secrets... I missed the food too," she said honestly. "But I miss being away from my friends. All of them, including you," she said before turning toward her mother and Micheline, both of whom had composed themselves after the initial shock at Ashlynn’s affectionate behavior.

At home, Ashlynn was never so free with her physical affections. But then, Maela realized with a sharp pang in her chest, Ashlynn had never been allowed to be quite as close to the staff of Blackwell Manor. She’d always been kept at arm’s length as a child, lest she do something careless and reveal her mark.

By the time she was old enough to protect her own secret, the distance between her and others in the household was already too great to cross. She was the untouchable young lady of the household and every servant in the manor knew it. But here, those barriers didn’t seem to exist at all.

"Mother, Micheline, this is Georg," Ashlynn said in a bright, cheerful tone. "He was one of the first friends I ever made in the Vale of Mists and he helped me so much when I got here. He’s the one who taught me how to make Snow on the Sea," she told her mother. "And dozens of other things too."

"He’s become our unofficial ambassador to newcomers in the castle," Ashlynn explained. "So please, think of him as a good family friend, because he’s been one of the best friends I could ask for when I needed friends the most."

"Well then, Master Georg," Maela said, smiling as she watched the bearish man’s ears twitch and his posture straighten under Ashlynn’s glowing praise. "If you’ve been a good friend to my daughter, then I owe you far more than my thanks. If there’s anything you ever need, just ask and I’ll do my best for you."

"No, no, it has always been my pleasure and my honor," Georg said, smiling wide enough to reveal his impressively sharp teeth. "I don’t need anything for that. Here," he said, reaching out to remove the silver cloche that covered the platter.

"I made something simple to start the evening and stimulate your appetite," Georg said. "I hope that no one minds. The first course is meant to be enjoyed raw..."