to smell some of them. Everything in Winterset seemed so beautiful. It was hard to think about it being destroyed and realizing I was one of the reasons behind it.
“So, did this tour of the grounds help convince you Winterset isn’t so bad?” Rowan asked, smiling.
“It’s beautiful,” I agreed. “But I miss home.”
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” he answered sympathetically, his eyes flashing painfully at his words. “If you want to talk about anything, I’ve been told I’m a decent listener.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think I’m ready for all that,” I stated sadly.
“Fair enough,” he said. “How about food? Are you hungry?”
“Actually, I kind of am,” I admitted.
“Come, then. I’ll show you where you can get some food.”
I followed him back to the palace and tried to remember all the twists and turns he was taking to reach our destination.
“Mabel,” Rowan spoke loudly, the smile carrying through to his voice. “What do you have cooking, sweetheart?”
“Rowan,” the chubby, older woman answered happily at the sound of him. “I was making some Stormburg Soup. I figured you’d be popping in here. I swear that nose of yours can lead you to any kitchen in the kingdom.”
She wiped her hands on her white apron and turned to face us. The color drained from her face at the sight of me, and she curtsied clumsily, knocking a ladle off the counter as she did so.
“Oh, no. Please don’t do that.” I blushed, instinctively bending down to return the large spoon.
“Milady, I wasn’t expecting you,” Mabel spoke hurriedly, taking the ladle I offered her. “I’m sorry. You have my apologies.”
“No, it’s fine. I was hungry, and Rowan said he’d take me to get something to eat. Don’t let me disturb you.”
“I can whip you up something. What would you like, milady?” She wiped nervously at her brow, her hands shaking.
She must not have much interaction with the royalty here, I thought glumly. That made this encounter so much more uncomfortable for both of us.
“I’d like to try that soup,” I offered helpfully. “It smells wonderful.”
“It is,” Rowan added knowledgeably. “Mabel makes the best Stormburg Soup in the entire kingdom.”
Mabel blushed down to her dusty blonde roots, her round cheeks looking like apples on her face.
“Oh, Rowan,” she scoffed at him, and Rowan grinned widely at her. She quickly grabbed two bowls and ladled the delicious smelling soup into them. She added a thick chunk of soft bread and sat them down at the small table in the corner by a window which looked out on a vegetable garden.
“Aren’t you going to join us?” I asked, sitting down at the table. Rowan looked interestedly to Mabel who seemed shocked at my question.
“I-I can take my dinner later, milady,” she said, curtsying awkwardly again.
“No way.” I waved my hand, thoroughly sick of the properness of everyone around me. “Eat with us. I want to dine with the woman who makes such an incredible soup.”
“Of course, milady.” Her lips turned up into a shaky smile, and Rowan nodded encouragingly to her.
“Honestly, Mabel. She won’t bite.” He chuckled, pulling a chair out for her. Mabel shot him a dirty look as she carefully sat down beside me.
“This soup is wonderful,” I said, breathing out a contented sigh. The soup was thick and creamy with a sweet aftertaste, the plump, colorful vegetables only adding to its flavor.
“I’m glad you like it, milady.” Mabel nodded her head nervously.
“Please. Call me Ana,” I said, scooping another large spoonful into my mouth.
Mabel visibly relaxed, and we ate in silence until Rowan cleared his throat.
“So, Ana,” he started, swallowing a bit of bread. “There are a ton of rumors flying around about you. I have to ask, and you can kick me if I’m out of line, but is it true you met the Mortae?”
I set my spoon down on the table, my hands shaking.
“I met a man named Calix, who I fell in love with,” I whispered, looking him in the eyes. Both he and Mabel shifted uncomfortably. “He wasn’t the monster he’s painted as.” Saying it out loud made me relax since my mind had been inundated with worry over who Calix truly was if not the man I’d known.
“Ana, forgive me once again, but he killed people here. We’re at a war because of him,” Rowan spoke carefully. “I mean you no disrespect. Perhaps you’ve painted him differently because you loved him.”
Mabel shifted again at my silence, and even Rowan looked hesitant.
“Love is blind,” Mabel murmured. “We cannot