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He turned the heat up under the soup and kept stirring to keep the vegetables and chunks of beef from burning. Another minute and he was ladling the soup into bowls and slapping the bread onto a large board. He pulled it apart in a few big chunks.
After grabbing a pair of cloth napkins, he joined her at the counter, then tapped bottles with her. “Dig in, Rosamunde.”
She flashed him a smile that grabbed something deep inside his chest all over again.
~ ~ ~
Rosamunde savored the soup, the warm bread with melted butter, and the beer. She’d had a chef at the castle for years, but she swore a meal had never tasted as good as this one.
As she glanced at Stone, she wondered if he was the cause, his company and being in his home.
She lifted her spoon to her lips once more, savored the fresh vegetables and flavorful beef and gave herself to a deep, contented sigh. Stone had grown quiet, though she suspected he wasn’t thinking about much of anything. He kept tearing off chunks of bread, slathering each piece with butter, then using it as a soup-scoop.
She set her spoon down for a moment, aware suddenly that she’d never had a normal kind of life, like eating soup and savory French bread in a man’s kitchen.
She’d had a life built on duty, doing what was required and expected of her. She really wasn’t complaining. She’d long since accepted what she’d needed to do to save the Nine Realms. Despite Stone’s prior disapproval of her, she’d been proud that she’d kept Margetta away from the elf-lord power all these centuries.
“Stone, I wish I’d been able to sit down with you long before this.”
He picked up his beer and swigged. She glanced at his long legs, noting that even the counter and bar stools had been built to accommodate his six-seven frame.
“I’ve misjudged you, Rosamunde. Davido told me you were never supposed to be queen.”
The reality of how she’d become queen, that Margetta had killed her own sister, hit her all over again. “No, I wasn’t and I was reminded of that fact every time the elf-lord power struck.”
“I wish I’d understood. I was way too hard on you.”
She leaned forward slightly. “I won’t disagree, but I never really blamed you.”
He set his bottle back on the counter, then continued eating, but his cheeks looked drawn and his eyes were narrowed. She could tell he was thinking hard.
She picked up her spoon as well and let the subject rest. She knew this situation was especially difficult for Stone. He was a straightforward, up front kind of guy. Her deception must have hurt him badly.
She sipped her beer and took another chunk of bread. She added the local butter and moaned softly as she took a bite, then followed up with another spoonful of soup. “This cook deserves to win awards.”
“I think she has.”
“Well, I’m not surprised.”
Glancing at her empty bottle, he left his bar stool then returned with two more beers. She accepted hers readily and took a sip.
“I don’t know if you’ll want to talk about this, but how did it happen that Margetta killed your mother? Davido told me a couple of details, while at the same time calling me pig-headed.”
“Why are you asking?”
“I want to know you better and I think you know a lot more about me than I do about you.”
Rosamunde nodded. “You’re probably right. After all, I’ve read every blog post ever written about you, but I know there’s not much on the web about me.”
“Exactly. You’re something of a mystery.”
Her throat grew tight. She debated whether to share the history with Stone, but it seemed pointless to not let him know the worst shame of her life. She’d long since forgiven herself, but it was still hard to talk about how and why her mother had died at the Ancient Fae’s hands.
“When I was young, I had several miniature goats that I adored and tended. Though my mother was queen, I had chores around what was then a large though simple home with a thatched roof. I was a typical girl and dressed my small goats up in scraps of woven fabric. My mother insisted the goats wear bells around their necks. She told me it was so that if they got lost, I’d be able to find them. Now I realize her real purpose was to keep track of me.
“I was adventurous back then. I think my father’s shifter genes were strong in me from the beginning.
“Anyway, I knew there was a mysterious veil of mist around the kingdom that kept Ferrenden Peace separated from the outside world. And I used to play near the mist barrier every day. I was so curious about how it was made and since I was forbidden to go into the mist, well, I had to go.
