Ambush: Tranquility, #6

By Krista D. Ball

Bethany would love nothing more than to put her feet up on a desk and have a well-earned rest, but Lord Jud is preparing to bring the entire might of the Silver Knights against her. Since misery loves company, the northern lords are conspiring to murder her in her bed. There are spies and traitors everywhere, and some too close for comfort. So Bethany is going to do what she does best: war. May the Goddess have mercy upon their souls because she never will.

 

And now, for the conclusion of the Tranquility series…prepare for Bethany's last stand.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Krista D. Ball
• Release date: Dec 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9780993718359

Book preview

Dedication

For Bethany’s fans

You changed my life. Thank you.

May your enemies tremble at the very sight of you.

The Series So Far

Lady Bethany, daughter of Apexia, had clawed her way to the top ranks of the Elven Service’s top military elite. Bethany lived as an Elorian—a half-elf, half-human—and her true identity as the daughter of the Goddess Apexia was a closely guarded secret.

She had worked hard, fought in battles, and expected a long, rewarding life protecting those under her care. But that was before her twin sister, Sarissa, returned from exile. Bethany soon discovered Sarissa was addicted to brutal Magic and human sacrifice, twisted inside, and abusing ancient prophecies to overthrow their mother and destroy everything Bethany held sacred.

Bethany sacrificed everything to stop Sarissa. And it still wasn’t enough: Sarissa escaped.

Bethany raised an army and marched north, to the nation of Taftlin. There, she reunited with her former lover, Arrago, who was leading the rebellion against King Daniel and his Magi army. They took Taftlin from both Daniel and the Magi, but Bethany became trapped behind enemy lines. It was there that Bethany discovered the true source of Magic, and Bethany was forced to make the biggest sacrifice imaginable in the name of peace: the death of the Gentle Goddess, her own mother.

After the end of the Magic War, Bethany returned to her homeland to clean up the political disaster that was brewing there. However, she didn’t stay long, was demoted for no good reason, and returned to Taftlin. There, she worked to uncover an assassination plot and protect King Arrago and Prince Henry. She decided Taftlin was now her home and married Arrago in a small, private ceremony.

Rumours flowed out of Orchard Park, including how Erem was missing. The new leader of the Silver Knights, Lord Jud, kicked Jovan out of the Silver Knights, and his parents quit the Elven Council in protest. It took near a year before news of Erem’s whereabouts reached Bethany: he was being held captive by Jud.

The Taftlin crew devised a rescue plan: they’d take the royal yacht, anchored at Castle Gree, and sail for the Temple of Tranquil Mercies on a secret diplomatic meeting. While Arrago distracted them with treaties, Bethany would find Erem and Jovan.

Before they left, Bethany told the others some of what happened when Sarissa died. Edmund and Arrago fought over him wanting to leave all of his property and titles to Opal. Shamed by what he’d said in anger, Arrago signed the will without telling Edmund.

Lord Rutherford and the rebels waited for Arrago to leave before devising a plan to kidnap  or kill (if necessary) Prince Henry. As a means to get them inside, Rutherford appeared before Edmund demanding tax relief. 

Arrago’s arrival at the Temple of Tranquil Mercies was a surprise, just as he’d intended. Once secure inside the temple, Bethany reconnected with old allies. She soon discovered many of the Elorians and humans from the war had been demoted like her, and Orchard Park was dividing itself up along racial lines.

Bethany decided to put her rescue plan into motion when Jovan was captured and both prisoners were to be moved. With Myra and Jonas’ help, they fough their way down to the dungeon. Jovan had developed a fever and was unable to walk from broken legs; Erem begged them to kill him.

Bethany was overcome with rage at the sight of Erem. She cleared a path for the others, only helping until they were sure to escape. Then, she turned to find Jud and kill him.

Rutherford’s mercenaries attacked the Winter Palace. Darien grabbed Opal and Henry, then got Amber. He escorted the three through the palace, trying to escape the violent by using the servant passages. Rose successfully hid the Dowager, her daughter, and Paverly. Kiner and Brennus fought side-by-side.

Amber killed an attacker protecting the children. Edmund found her some time later, and in his relief in seeing her, kissed her. They were interrupted by Opal, which caused Amber to cry. Edmund realized he’d made a terrible mistake kissing her.

At the temple, Bethany created walls of fire in the middle of the courtyard while she rushed inside the building looking for Jud. He accused her of being a Magi. She kicked him out of his study window. The sight of Erem and Jovan’s conditions set off Arrago, and he charged after Bethany to help.

Bethany jumped out of the window after Jud, with the aim of beating him to death in front of everyone. Arrago formed a shield to stop the archers from killing Bethany, and managed to convince her not to kill Jud. Using their combined strength, they escaped the mob and made it back to the ships.

The healers were able to mend Jovan’s broken bones and rid him of fever, but Erem proved to be well beyond healing. He was never alone, and his food was drugged to help him sleep. Once at the Winter Palace, he asked Kiner to keep Lendra away from him while he was recovering; it was too hard to see her. He frequently asked his friends to kill him.

With Prince Henry safe and the mercenaries dead, Rutherford still saw the attack as a victory. He planned to raise an army to take the north. Kiner sent Rose to poison Rutherford. They never told Arrago or Bethany.

Darien confessed he’d been sent to kill Prince Henry and Bethany because Jud had found out he was only pretending to be a full elf. He’d threatened to harm Darien’s family if he hadn’t gone through with it. Bethany had already known, but she’d threatened and roughed up Darien a little to scare him.

Bethany then turned all of her attention to preparing Taftlin for war.

And now for the conclusion of the Tranquility series...

Volume I

The Long Cold Without Hope

In the darkness, where man’s heart festers in hatred, there was no escape for us. I knew. We all knew. But what were we to do? There were crimes yet to be punished. And change is a crime in the eyes of many. So we waited, and worked, and worried. We knew it was the end of all things, but what else could we do but what we had done?

The Published Diaries of Lord Stanley

Former Advisor to King Arrago of Taftlin

Chapter 1

No, no, no. No! Bethany shouted until her voice cracked. She’d been shouting all day, and her throat was raw. Everyone stop.

Everyone was fucking cold and fucking miserable, including herself, but she did not care about the sighs and grumbles of the recruits around her. She could see the exhaustion in their unsteady swings and steps. She could hear their complaints about being hungry and cold. Her job wasn’t to listen, so she ignored them.

Her job over the last year had been rather simple: teach people how to stay alive. They would hate her for it, and she did not care because it meant they were alive. Dead people felt no hatred.

She glanced over to where Brennus was standing in front of a pod of initiates.

Trainees, she corrected her internal thinking. Here, they called them trainees.

Brennus, get over here, she ordered. She pointed in front of her and said, You, too, Darien. Myra, Rose? Stand there. All of you.

She waited for them to make their sullen way to the front of the training area, to stand in front of her, for what they knew was about to be an asskicking either way. There was a lot of grumbling now, and she was pretty sure Brennus’ voice was part of it. She didn’t comment on the complaining, since it was only the usual griping and muttering. She waited until they formed a semi-circle in front of her, with Brennus at her side.

Rose, in particular, continued pointing her surly glare in Bethany’s direction. She’d been like that for a week now, ever since Bethany refused to let any of them into the practice area with so much as a blunted blade. Wood practice swords only, and if anyone lost an eye, Bethany threatened to wrap them all in blankets and pillows.

However, Rose had taken great offense when she’d overheard Bethany say, They’ll only hurt themselves if we let them have swords. From the expression, the offence was still well-nursed and very much alive. That’s what she got for eavesdropping on grown-up conversations.

Bethany was silent as Myra muttered about how hungry she was and how this wasn’t fair and on and on. She, too, had been offended by the practice sword. Myra, for example, was convinced she was the best swordsman to exist since the invention of steel.

And then there was Darien, who couldn’t stop staring at Myra’s ass long enough for Bethany to trust him with anything pointier than a spoon.

They finally stopped bellyaching long enough for her to gesture for them to move in closer.

They all looked scared. Fair, since they weren’t generally stupid and knew her dirty tricks well enough by now. I’m not going to bite you, relax.

She didn’t bite them. Instead, she kicked Brennus in the back of the knee because he’d foolishly taken a step in front of her, giving her the idea in the first place. He hit the ground with the expected grunt of pain and stream of curses. Bethany whirled on Myra, who was too busy gawking at Brennus’ collapsed form to even bother raising her little wooden sword. Bethany pulled her punches as best as she could, since she aimed to only injure their pride.

It was a good plan, except her elbow cracked Darien in the face. Again. She ignored his painful little wail when he dropped his guard to check if he was bleeding. Which he was. Floral teacups were made of sturdier stuff than Darien’s nose.

Bethany hesitated, thinking that it was probably too much to kick Darien while he was buckled over moaning, and so took a stinging blow across her forearm from a rather enraged Myra. She managed to dodge two of Rose’s swings before swatting the practice sword away. Rose lost her balance and fell into Darien, and the two toppled to the ground.

Myra let out what could only be kindly called a battle cry before rushing Bethany. She merely stepped aside the girl’s charge at the last moment and flattened her with a swift sweep of her boot across the ankles. She saw movement and whirled, but it was only Darien struggling to his knees with one hand raised in surrender.

The other hand was trying to stop his nosebleed.

She stared at the downed bodies in the snowy mud for a long beat. Then, she squared her shoulders and looked at the gathered children and their various expressions of horror, shock, enthusiasm, and a general contempt for her existence. This is what I expect from all of you. Try again.

The sweet sound of soldiers bitching and moaning returned. However, this time a little flavour was added with various instructions for Darien to tip his head back, hold his nose differently, and so on.

Bethany pretended not to hear Myra’s muttered curses and ignored the girl’s dirty looks. In fact, Bethany would have grinned if she wasn’t so tired and sore herself. And she really needed to check her arm when the children weren’t looking at her because it fucking stung and she wanted to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. Or broken.

She wiggled her tingling fingers. Probably not broken, but she was going to have an awful bruise tomorrow. Which was why they weren’t allowed to have real swords. They’d just hurt someone.

She offered her good, working hand to Brennus. He sighed but slapped his gloved hand around her wrist and allowed her to haul him to his feet. He turned his back to the recruits so that he could say, in a low voice, I’m not convinced beating me up is helping.

Bethany snorted. Excluding Darien—who was busy having linen stuffed up his nostrils—the others had reformed their small groups to square off with each other. They were going through the motions slowly, like she’d taught them earlier in the morning, though she did wonder if the speed was more to do with the temperature at this point.

It was truly cold by Taftlin standards for this time of the year. It should be frosty in the mornings, sure, but not snow. All of the migratory birds had left the previous week, causing Lord Stanley to declare an early winter would soon be upon them. Lord Rayner, in his cynical style, declared an early, long, and brutal winter was ahead of them. According to the old advisor, long winters were always brutally cold.

She glanced at Brennus, who seemed to be waiting for a response. He was covered in icy mud all on one side. The cold should keep away the elves. She glanced up at Brennus’ ears. Well, the elves with any sense anyway.

Look, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job. Brennus paused.

She snorted again. Honestly, she was as cold as everyone looked. The day’s light was fading fast, and it was getting colder the further the sun dropped in the sky. This lot wasn’t ready for night training yet. Oh, sure, Myra and Rose had done enough of it during the war that they knew to hide under the bushes and let everyone else get the piss beaten out of them. The others? They’d just end up breaking bones and twisting ankles.

They really needed night training, though. With the shortening days, it was a good time to do it.

"I just don’t think peasants should be trained like elves."

He’d said that part loud enough to caught Myra’s attention. She gave them a guilty look before turning her attention back to her group.

Bethany looked over at him. Are you saying I should go easy on them?

No... Brennus said in a tone that said she absolutely should. Most of these people are humans. They can’t do what you are asking them to do.

Ah, yes. I remember that one being used on myself more than once. Bethany frowned. Perhaps you think I should retire my sword for needlepoint with the Dowager.

I never said that, Brennus said. He didn’t bother to hide the crossness in his voice. No one would ever say that.

They had, actually. To a very young, innocent Elorian with red hair and an unscarred face, whose eyes did not look haunted in the mirror. Perhaps she should have listened to them.

But then she looked out at the Winter Palace’s back lawn, as Arrago called it. It was a mixture of mud, snow, and dead plants. This collection of bodies mixed Rygents, humans, Elorians, and even elves who’d defected during the war’s end for one reason or another. The most experienced of those were already assigned elsewhere, but there were enough pointed ears in the soup pot before her that she knew none would feel too isolated from their own kind. They were here to learn and fight, to protect themselves and others. She was willing to give them the chance to prove they were worth her time.

She’d even allowed Jud’s little gaggle of spies to stay. By request, a couple were put on the first merchant ship heading south, but most stayed. That made Kiner uneasy. Truth be told, it disquieted her, too, but she did not want to live looking over her shoulder, waiting for a dagger between the shoulder blades. If they’d been planning something, surely they’d have attempted it by now. If they were still working on their diabolical plan, she was confident it would be found out. Or, if not, they’d all be murdered in their beds by elven spies. Either way. She was tired of sitting around waiting for the end.

I’m not saying this to upset you. I just thought you should hear another opinion.

She was watching Myra’s form with her sword. The girl had improved a lot, even in the past week. She didn’t look at Brennus when she asked, How much fighting did you do in the war? I don’t think I ever asked you.

Some, Brennus admitted. I came with the rear guard, about a month after you came through, and then I was assigned to the Dowager’s protection.

What did you do during the war?

I organized supplies for the front lines. He answered honestly, and without defensiveness. Supplies were necessary. Starving to death killed you just the same as a sword to the guts. Only slower.

She watched the trainees. So many of them had that fresh-faced, wide-eyed innocence. Myra and Rose did not, she noticed. Sadness filled her for a moment. Soon, they’d all lose it. She hated that part, for she always felt just a touch guilty for it.

Obviously, I didn’t see as much of the war as you did, Brennus added. There was a note of self-consciousness to his tone now, like her silence compelled him to find a reply she’d approve.

He was a trained knight; he didn’t need her approval. She didn’t need his. What they both needed was a royal guard to protect Arrago. There was also little Prince Henry. The heir to the throne of Taftlin absolutely needed protection, and the list of people she trusted with the boy was very short. She would do all she could to keep that little boy safe, but she also knew she couldn’t be the one to protect him. She’d eventually be needed elsewhere, or maybe even as the distraction to get Arrago and Henry to safety.

She’d just not told Arrago. He didn’t need to know. He’d just argue.

That meant she had this winter, and maybe only this winter, to train up as many as possible. But as she looked over the tired motions of the recruits, she also knew when it was time to let them eat a hot meal.

Brennus finally asked, Why did you ask about the war?

She looked at him and said, Just making sure I knew what I was doing more than you.

She didn’t wait for him to sputter a reply. She stepped forward toward the clutter of bodies and waved her hands in the air. It said a lot about their energy levels how quickly they all ceased their formations.

All right. That’s it for today.

She paused for the collective groans of relief to finish.

I’m seeing a lot of improvement, even from just this morning. Well done, everyone. Normally, she’d have stopped there, but Arrago had talked to her about how she needed to be more friendly. I’m quite happy with your progress.

She had no idea why complimenting people was like pulling teeth. She ignored the little voice in the back of her head that said it was because she was afraid of appearing weak. If that voice kept up its foolishness, she’d find a way to stab it silent.

Head to the north ballroom, like always. Cook is going to have something hot, I’m sure. Eat your fill. You’ve earned it. Then, I want all squad leaders to check each and every person in your group and get their wounds tended before bed. That includes blisters on hands and feet, as well as rashes from your equipment not fitting properly. Get those adjustments made before bed. I want everyone back here tomorrow morning at five. I’ll alert the servants to ring the bell at four.

Five? Darien shouted back.

Yes, five. It is generally found between four and six, Bethany confirmed.

I mean, Majesty, five in the morning or evening?

Morning, Bethany said.

More collective groaning.

I know. I know. No one hates mornings like an elf. But Lord Brennus here is going to teach you some of the basics of fighting in the dark while tired. She replied to Brennus’ scowl with a smile. "He is an expert in warfare and tactics, having had extensive experience in the Magic Wars. He is very eager to share his knowledge with all of you."

Brennus blew out a breath and shook his head. A mocking sound escaped him.

Then, he is going to spend some time teaching you how to form a shield wall. This is a vital skill and will serve you well in the future even if you do not stay with the Royal Guard and the Palace Guard. Now, shoo. Be gone from my sight, I’m sick of the lot of you. She emphasized this by making a shooing gesture to match.

Brennus jogged up beside her. Bethany, come on. I haven’t done a shield wall in decades. I was only—

Pissing and moaning about how I don’t know what I’m doing. So. Prove yourself. You have a month.

To do what exactly?

Bethany gestured at the dispersing crowd. Teach them to form a shield wall.

What? One month? You have got to be joking. Look, come on. I was only suggesting there are different ways to train a mostly human army. I wasn’t saying you were wrong. You don’t need to punish me for—

She interrupted him with a smile. Excellent. I look forward to observing your methods.

She’d have left it there, and probably would have come out to help him in the morning if he’d not made the mistake of grabbing her injured forearm. Wait.

The pain made her flinch, and when she looked up at his face, her smile was gone. Brennus let go of her and raised his hands in the air.

Then, because he clearly had never met her before, had the fucking nerve to say, Sorry, I didn’t know you were hurt.

Three weeks now.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Fine. Fine. Go throw your tantrum. He said that last part while making a rather rude gesture as he walked away muttering to himself. All because she couldn’t take a bit of criticism.

She clearly heard that part and shouted back, Two weeks, Brennus. She waited for him to turn to face her. You have two weeks to get them formed into a proper shield wall. Good luck. You’ll need it.

Bethany smirked at his back before turning to walk away from the grumbling recruits. Kiner had recommended she assign Brennus to take over training the recruits and volunteers; she was needed to plan the border defenses. Too bad for Brennus. If he’d just kept his mouth shut, she’d have had to come begging his help in a few days and he’d have gotten some favours out of it.

This was significantly better.

Bethany successfully dodged the collection of complainers gathered near the main double-door entrance by skirting around to the side door where wood and coal deliveries were made by the servants. The corridors had no windows, but all of the wall sconces were lit, so she could see well enough. The servants bowed, tipped hats, and curtsied as best as they could while carrying baskets of foodstuffs, linens, ropes, wood carts, and basically everything else necessary for an active palace.

Majesty, are you lost again?

She turned to see the Winter Palace’s imperious housekeeper standing next to an open pantry door. The palace had a lot of pantries. Bethany wondered how the servants ever found anything.

She gave the housekeeper a respectful nod. No, Mrs. Miriam. I am avoiding the front door.

Miriam gave Bethany a rather disapproving look, one that a servant normally would not give a queen. At least, in Bethany’s limited experience in how they’d treated Celeste at Castle Gree. Perhaps I should speak to the masons about adding a new secret entrance for you, Majesty.

Bethany smiled. She glanced over the housekeeper’s shoulder at the partially opened door. What’s in there?

The servant next to Miriam pushed the door open wider and offered the candle to Bethany. She stepped inside the narrow, long room and whistled. Rows and rows of crockery jars, glass bottles, and small burlap bags sat on floor-to-ceiling shelves.

What is all this? She sniffed. Smells like nutmeg.

Miriam stepped inside the room to stand next to her. This is where we keep the elven food. The teas, nuts, spices, and the olives. In the back, we also keep some of the sugar and the molasses, and we keep the king’s favourite preserves in here, too. We also keep your supply of strawberry apple jam in here, so we don’t run out.

Bethany held the candle up to a brown crockery jar with a stretched bladder over it. She couldn’t tell what it was. I thought all this was stored in the cellar building out in the field?

For the regular items, yes. This, Miriam said as she made an all-encompassing gesture, is the expensive stuff. The bread ovens are on the other side of that far wall, so it keeps this room dry, but not too hot.

Now I know where to go if I want a snack, Bethany said.

Miriam’s expression grew stern. This room is locked at all times. Only I have the key. But, of course, Majesty, you can wake me at any time of the day or night for access. This is, of course, your home.

"I promise to never, ever wake you in the middle of the night unless it is a true emergency."

The housekeeper had done well getting many of the young servants, and all of the children, safe during the attack on the palace. She’d not seen it, of course, but Bethany had heard all about it. Her opinion of the woman was never low, but it had improved with the details of her actions.

Bethany gestured at the sack of walnuts. Miriam gave her permission and Bethany pulled out a handful and dumped them into one of the empty smaller pots that lined the floor. As she filled up the pot, she said, I promise not to tell Arrago about this room.

Miriam looked as though she was going to say something, but checked herself. Instead, she said, Majesty, the food is yours. I only wish to ensure that it isn’t stolen.

Oh. I was not offended, if that’s what you think. I’m just being nosy. I still don’t know my way around the lower floors, after all this time.

We do not mind you coming down here. We are simply unused to the attention, Majesty.

Bethany watched the servants trying their best to extend the required curtsies and being clearly frustrated and inconvenienced. Would it do any good to tell them to stop bowing?

None whatsoever, Majesty, Mrs. Miriam said.

I assumed so. Well, I am sure you are very busy. She looked back out of the room into the hallway that had a servant or delivery boy or a footman walk by every few seconds. And I know when I am getting in everyone’s way.

Majesty, before you go, if I might make a small suggestion?

Bethany gave her a continue gesture.

The previous queens would meet with me on a daily basis to ensure that...well, that is to say, to ensure that the meals were on the level of which projected their greatness and station.

Bethany had no idea where this was going, but she was certain she would not like it.

However, the Dowager Duchess has taken on the role. Now, please know, Majesty, I am not offended to work with Her Grace in the slightest. Please do not assume I am criticizing your choice in that matter.

I actually had no idea any of this happened. Bethany shrugged. I spend most of my time with the trainees or the army, so I have no idea how the palace actually runs.

It has been more than a year now, and I still do not know how best to make the palace comfortable for elves, and I have heard the king himself complain about the opulence of the meals at times, but I am only following the direction of the Dowager. Miriam sighed. I would feel more...if possible, could you include your input?

Bethany’s mouth blurted before her brain could filter the words. I am quite busy training the king’s guard.

Embarrassment flashed across the middle-aged housekeeper’s face. Of course, Majesty. I did not mean to bother you.

Bethany felt immediately chastened, as she did not like snapping at the palace staff. They had accepted her, as an elf, with rather open arms. But it was more than that. She did not want the reputation of being mean to the servants. She didn’t care back in Orchard Park, where half of her servants were spies. Taftlin was different. While she never needed them to like her, she didn’t want them to hate her.

No, you’re right, Mrs. Miriam. You’re right. The Dowager can be very dedicated to how things should be, and Arrago is... Bethany rolled her eyes. What if I asked my sister and Paverly? Two Elorian girls and the sensible hand of the Dowager should work well, and you would never be placed in the situation to break the tie. Would that work better?

Oh, thank you, Miriam said with an exhalation of relief. Yes, that would be very kind of you, Majesty. If it is not too much work for the Ambassador, especially.

Oh, my sister will love planning dinners, and I think Paverly is level-headed enough to bring in the necessary restraint. I’ll even tell her that we’re looking to keep the meals simple most days. Actually, who has been planning the dinners for the recruits? I had Lord Stanley to arrange it all, but I didn’t think beyond that.

I have, Majesty, Mrs. Miriam said with a bow. It has been my honour.

Oh. It’s not too much work for you, right?

Not at all, Mrs. Miriam said, and Bethany did not believe a word of it. It must’ve shown on her face because the housekeeper quickly said, Lord Stanley allowed me to hire eight kitchen girls and six boys. They’ve been a great help getting the meals out on time. And, besides, I lost all of my sons in the civil war. I get to look after someone else’s sons now, and make sure they go to bed every night with a full stomach.

This was the part Bethany hated, and she hated how hollow her words sounded. But nevertheless, she said the base minimum that was required by common decency. I am very sorry for your loss.

You saved a great many other sons, Majesty. Mrs. Miriam gave her a tight smile. I will always remember that.

Bethany didn’t know how to fill the silence between them. She found it easier when grieving parents yelled at her. The truth was so much harder; she’d lost count long ago of the dead, of the parents and families she’d left grieving across this nation. She was their harbinger of death, and the longer she stood in a place, the less likely peace would remain there.

Bethany let out a breath and offered the woman a smile. This grieving, overworked woman did not need more to carry upon her shoulders. I’ll get the ladies organized, and please always let my sister know if you need help or anything. Or Lord Stanley, if that’s better for you. Just tell them I said so.

Bethany prided herself that she managed to wait for Mrs. Miriam to offer her thanks before her hasty escape. She was never good with the losses. It wasn’t that she didn’t care; she did. She just couldn’t bear the bodies if they had names, and now there were Mrs. Miriam’s sons that she would carry. Her shoulders slumped just a touch more from the weight of more named dead. However, she pushed it out of her mind, neatly packing it all away into the small cupboard in the back of her memories. There, those memories would stay until she decided to let them out. Or drank too much and the best brandy opened the cupboard doors when she least expected it.

Her stomach growled. The cold made her hungry without even doing anything, let alone fighting outside all day. The jar of walnuts she carried made a great escape route for her, as if she was carrying state secrets. She smiled and nodded and tried to walk with purpose to avoid being stopped in the upper hallway. She went up another flight of stairs and dodged more important people, and finally followed the laughter and arguing into the dining hall.

***

Well, it’s about time! Jovan called out as she entered the dining hall. Where have you been?

She waved at the room’s occupants and ignored Jovan’s stream of questions. She placed the jar of walnuts down at the end of the table spread and dug around in the sideboard’s top drawer for the metal nutcracker. Once found, she put that on top of the jar, trying to answer a dozen questions being hurled at her at once.

She grabbed a plate and asked, Where’s Arrago?

He’s with Lord Kiner still, Lord Rayner said. He was seated with a glass of wine and two rolls in front of him. He continued his conversation with Jovan, who was laughing in all of the right places and egging the old man on when necessary, leaving Bethany in peace to pile her plate high with food.

The first step was to rip open three rolls and layer them strategically across her plate. She noticed Lord Rayner was in his good chair, the one that helped his aching back. The one he made Darien carry all over the palace for him.

Who carried your chair? she asked as she spread the warmed butter over the rolls.

I did, Jovan said proudly.

He nearly broke it! Rayner declared. It is so difficult to find good help, Majesty. Why do you insist on taking that elf away from me? He’s the only useful person in this entire country. Even if he’s an elf.

She lifted the first lid. Her stomach growled at the sight of the stewed pearl onions, but she knew those were cooked in bacon fat, and her guts couldn’t handle that unless she was in dire straits. She put the lid back. Surely you want Darien well trained?

Lord Rayner sniffed. He’d be best in an office, not on some battlefield.

Clerks need to defend themselves, too, Jovan said with a grin before going back to finish his story.

She was excited to see salt fish in butter and onion sauce, and poured two full ladles of the mixture on the centre roll of her plate. The steam wafting up said the food was fresh, too, and her stomach gurgled in anticipation. She couldn’t help from sticking a finger into the sauce on her plate to have a taste.

Perfection.

At that moment, Darien rushed into the room. He looked around, panting heavily, until his eyes fell on Lord Rayner Oh. I see you already have your chair.

Boy! I have no wine in my glass! Lord Rayner said by way of greeting.

Her eyes brightened at the nut stew with enough garlic to kill a horse, and carefully poured a ladle of that around the edge of the fish. Can’t the healers do something for your back?

Healers can’t help old men, Majesty, Lord Rayner said bitterly.

I go for a nice top up every week. Makes me feel thirty years younger. She’d not seen Lord Stanley in the corner, as he’d been bent over fiddling with the curio cabinet. Boy! Since you’re up, fill up my glass, too.

She said her apologies to Lord Stanley for not noticing him, who waved her off and told her to hurry up with her plate or she’d starve to death. She obeyed by putting three scoops of mashed turnips on top of her fish. She surveyed her plate and decided she still needed more and lifted several more lids, though those were all clearly meat dishes.

As Darien poured Lord Stanley another glass of wine, he asked if Rayner wanted a full glass poured. He was rewarded with a barrage of complaints about how poor wine quality.

So? No more wine then? Darien asked.

None of your lip, boy! Rayner snapped. He grabbed the carafe. I’m not so old I can’t pour my own wine yet.

Since when? Stanley asked.

Since ever! Rayner said.

From there, the table descended into the comfortable daily tradition of bickering about the quality of the palace wine cellars. Bethany chuckled along with the show as she arranged blue potatoes around her plate, and dumped a large spoonful of honey carrots over it all. She examined the pickle offerings and rejected the tongue, but took the three types of beets, along with the onions, cabbage strips, and beans.

She was indecisive over the pickled eggs, but decided to take four of those, and finally a slice of cheese pie, sat on top of everything.

The fish hash also looked good, but it was often an iffy item at the palace.

It has salt pork in it, Lord Rayner called out.

Bethany made a disappointed sound. She loved Taftlin-style salt fish, but they insisted on putting salt pork into everything. She decided to add more pickles, another roll, and a second piece of cheese pie to her plate to make up for the disappointment.

She put her plate down and collapsed into a chair across from the two old human men. I should ask Mrs. Miriam to add fish hash with only butter and onions to the royal suites menu. Lord Stanley, do you think she’d be fine with that?

I prefer the salt pork, Lord Rayner muttered darkly. Majesty.

Well, then surely we can compromise, Lord Rayner, she said.

Jovan snorted. Yes, because when anyone thinks of Bethany, they think of compromise.

Oh shut up, or I’ll write to your mother and tell her you’re debauching the servants. She laughed at Jovan’s dramatic eye roll and turned back to the old man. She shovelled a large forkful of turnips into her mouth. Between chews, she said, Now, what if we have it by day? You get the salt fish and salt pork hash four times a week, and I’ll get my salt fish with just butter and onions the other days?

Both of the old men were too busy staring at her to answer. She shovelled in another mouthful and asked, What?

Lord Stanley stared at her plate. Good Apexia on the wind, child. How can you eat so much?

I’m an elf, ya know. She didn’t mean for it to come across as defensive, but it did, even to her own ears.

Lord Stanley either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Lord Jovan over there is a full elf, and his plate is only half as full.

Jovan straightened his shoulders and posed for the assembly.

Bethany rolled her eyes. I was outside training all day in the cold. I’m starving.

Everyone knew, of course, that elves ate non-stop. That did not stop the teasing. Then again, elves teased each other about the food sometimes, too. And since she really was hungry, she stuffed a tiny blue potato into her mouth. Still warm, but not too hot as to burn her tongue.

My dear Majesty, if you keep eating like that, you will be needing afternoon naps when you are old.

Bethany scoffed. When I’m old, I had better not be outside training anyone in the snow.

You will find you’ll always be teaching the young ones, Majesty, Rayner said bitterly. He snapped his fingers at Darien, who jumped to his feet. Butter me a roll. I want the normal one. Not that elf bread.

Not a fan of the garlic anymore, Lord Rayner? Jovan asked. It used to be your favourite at Castle Gree.

Stanley won’t let me have it.

Lord Stanley made a gagging sound. The wind that comes out of him is poison.

That sent the table into hysterics, as the two old friends and colleagues bickered about who had the worst farts. Bethany ate her food mostly in silence after that point as she was truly famished and half-frozen. And, her arm still stung, but she didn’t want to roll up her sleeve to see if there was a bruise yet.

She had started on a second plate of food when Arrago and Kiner walked into the room.

Arrago took one look at her three slices of cheese pie, and the previously abandoned plate, and asked. Is there anything left for us?

Bethany replied by way of a rude gesture. You try training a bunch of newbies out in the snow instead of sitting on your ass all day.

My ass prefers to be warm, Arrago said and picked up his own plate. Oh, this all looks great.

Bethany ate all the cheese pie, Jovan said over the table conversations.

Bethany shrugged. I’m hungry. Oh, Kiner? Have you talked to Brennus yet?

Kiner took his plate to the opposite end of the serving table from Arrago and began dumping pickles on his plate. Not since you told him he had to teach everyone how to form a shield wall in the next two weeks?

She snorted. A little sore, is he?

That’s one way to put it.

When Kiner leaned forward to sniff the fish hash, a chorus sang out, It has salt pork.

Why don’t they ever make it with the butter and onions, like they did at Castle Gree? Kiner complained.

Bethany gave Lord Rayner a told you so look. That got Darien’s fingers rapped with a fork. My bun!

Bethany watched Darien’s eyes linger over the food before saying, "Apexia’s sake, kid. Get yourself