Chapter 431: A Feast and Its Confession

Chapter 430: A Feast and Its Confession

Lyria’s POV

Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and before I could utter a word, Elara and Pippa entered, each pushing a trolley laden with covered dishes. The scent of food filled the chamber at once.

Margery and Bridget moved immediately to the small table by the window, lifting it and setting it down before us. Duke Valenridge observed all this with a raised eyebrow, his expression one of mild bewilderment, as though he had anticipated no such occurrence.

Then he asked, "What, precisely, is the meaning of this?"

"I r-requested my maids to b-bring you something to e-eat," I said.

Just then, Zephyr stirred within his arms. He set the creature down, and Zephyr padded at once across the chamber to the bed, where he lay himself down and closed his eyes, evidently satisfied that his services were no longer required of him.

"You need not have troubled yourself so, curious wolf," Duke Valenridge said.

"It is w-what little compensation I c-can offer you," I said, "for h-having taken your m-money."

His lips twitched into a smile.

"So you intend to compensate me with food, is that the whole of it?" he asked.

"Perhaps," I told him, just as my maids began setting the dishes upon the table.

The spread before us was considerable indeed.

There was a platter of roasted fowl, golden and glistening, arranged about with sprigs of rosemary and thyme. A joint of beef, carved and resting still in its own juices. A whole fish, poached and dressed with lemon and herbs. There were dishes of glazed carrots and buttered peas, a tureen of thick soup with steam curling from its surface, and a basket of fresh bread, still warm from the oven. A wooden board bore an arrangement of cheeses and cold cuts, while a plate of small pastries offered mushroom and herb fillings besides. There was a dish of spiced rice, a tray of pickled vegetables, and a jug of watered wine set alongside a pot of tea. And beneath it all, a modest selection of sweetmeats, tarts, and candied fruits, for whosoever should wish for something sweeter to finish upon.

Duke Valenridge regarded the whole of it.

"This is a feast, and no mere meal," he said.

"I r-recall you saying you c-care little for f-food, Your Grace, d-during the interview," I said, "and so I t-thought it best to h-have a great v-variety set before you, that s-something at least might a-appeal."

He gave me a look, and then nodded.

"I am obliged to you, for the trouble you have taken," he said.

I waved this off, then gestured towards the various dishes.

"D-do partake," I said.

"I shall eat only if you join me," he replied.

"I h-have already eaten," I said though the words had scarcely left my lips before Elara cleared her throat, quite loudly.

I turned towards her, and she gestured at the food as though bidding me eat also.

"V-very well," I said, with a sigh.

I took up a plate and served myself, beginning with the roasted fowl. I added a portion of the buttered vegetables and a slice of the warm bread, which I spread generously with butter.

I noticed, as I began my meal, that Duke Valenridge took only small portions of everything set before him. He sampled the fowl, the beef, the fish — but only the smallest measure of each. He drank a little of the soup, but no more than that. And he touched nothing sweet whatsoever.

"D-do you dislike t-the food, Your Grace?" I asked him.

He shook his head.

"I am more partial to savoury fare," he said. "Even within my own territory, the dishes run less to sweetness and rather more to spice. But here in the capital, I have observed that most things tend either to blandness or to excessive sweetness."

I ate a piece of the roasted chicken, savouring the herbs upon it, and said, "It is n-not bland, a-at least t-to me."

"That is because your palate has grown accustomed to the fare of this place," he said.

He paused, setting down his fork.

"And if I am to speak honestly, this is precisely why I claimed, during my interview, to care little for food. The cooking of the capital does not suit my taste in the least. There is very little of it I can properly stomach."

I gestured towards the various dishes.

"There is a g-great variety p-present," I said. "You o-ought to try more of it."

He nodded, and continued eating, though in the same manner as before — small portions only, and even after eating, he drank a great deal of water, as though to press the food down by force.

"I d-do think it is y-you who ought to be s-scolded by Elara," I told him. "For even I eat w-well enough, and y-you scarcely eat at all." Then I turned to Elara. "I-is that not so?"

Elara laughed softly.

"That is entirely true, Your Highness. You do forget your meals, on occasion. But His Grace, for all he eats so little, carries rather more weight even than yourself."

I laughed softly at that.

"D-did you have any i-idea of where I w-was going," I asked Duke Valenridge, "b-before you wrote those w-words to me?"

He shook his head.

"No," he said. "I only observed that you appeared uneasy. And nervousness, on occasion, betrays a great deal more than a person intends it to. And so I wrote what I wrote."

I stared at him a while.

"If t-that is the t-truth of it," I said, "then I o-owe you my t-thanks once more."

Duke Valenridge asked, "Do you not trust me, then?"

"I d-do trust you," I said. "But..."

He stared at me.

"But what?"

I only gave a shrug, and refused to answer him further.

He shook his head, a smile upon his face.

When at last we had finished our meal, the maids removed the dishes, and I confess that, between the two of us, a great deal of food yet remained upon the trolley.

"The eighty per cent upon which I placed my wager," Duke Valenridge said. "It has proven true. The Queen set the commoners free."