CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Calista
“You will be the final death of us all.”
What did that mean, final death? Death was finality. Whatever it was, it sounded far more ominous than just passing away.
“Please slow down.” I jerked against Jessandra’s death grip on my bicep as she dragged me back to the castle. I stepped on the hem of my dress repeatedly, losing my footing, but she’d pick me up like a ragdoll and keep going.
Once inside the castle, she shoved me into the dining room and barked orders at the servants before turning to me. “Do as Astaroth commanded. Gwendith will guide you to your room.”
I rubbed my already bruising arm. “No need. I remember the way.”
She stepped toward me, and I retreated. “See that you get there.”
In the blink of an eye, Jessandra was gone. The inhuman way they moved unnerved me, and I worried how I was to outrun them when they traveled at the speed of light. The tapestry whipped against the wall as more servants rushed from the room toward an exit I spotted earlier.
I won’t have to outrun them if they are distracted.
I checked for any stragglers and stepped into the hall.
“Milady?”
Startled, I spun around to find Ziggy holding a small platter. Nervous, he held it up for me. His pride faltered when I scrutinized his creation instead of taking it. The toppings were iffy, but when I sniffed it, my mouth began to water. It smelled delicious.
I chose the best piece and took a tentative bite. Just like the fruit on the plate, flavor burst in my mouth. I hummed, and my stomach answered with a growl. It was the best thing I’d ever tasted. Or maybe it only seemed that way since I hadn’t eaten a true meal in days.
His large black eyes widened even more as a childish grin spread over his face. I couldn’t help but share in his joy.
“Have you tried it?”
He tucked his chin. “I’m ashamed to say I haven’t. I wanted to feed you. Please don’t tell the king. His Highness would be so upset that I didn’t test a meal first. But I knew it would be good, though. The ingredients are the best we have.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Ziggy hunkered even more and dropped to his knees, the platter still held out in front of him. “I promise to do better next time. If you’ll still have me.”
I knelt in front of him and took the dish. “Of course I’ll have you. This is the best pizza ever. Why would you think that?”
Panic stricken, Ziggy tried to take the platter back. “You must stand before others see you!”
“Who cares?” I looked around the quiet room and down the hall. “No one’s here.”
“I beg of you.”
“Fine. But you have to take a bite first.”
Hesitant, he chose a slice and stared at me until I motioned for him to eat it. Half of it fit in his wide mouth. He stopped mid-chew and looked at me as I took another bite. “I will add this to our menu.”
“There are a million different ways to make it. All delicious in their own way.”
Ziggy practically glowed. “Pizza every night.”
I laughed, grateful he took on the challenge and loved it. Who knew what the next “delicacy” would have been. Probably a warted, puss-oozing toad. “Take a couple more slices. I can’t eat all this on my own.”
He happily obliged and with a quickness.
I stood up, and he followed. “I better go to my room before I get in more trouble.” And so I could prepare to sneak out while everyone was busy.
