Page 57 of Secrets of Avalon

I nod, gratitude welling up in my chest. I misread him. The darkness made me suspicious of my own brother. "Thank you for the warning, Destrien. I know I can always count on you."

With a final, reassuring smile, Destrien excuses himself, his footsteps echoing down the corridor as he disappears from view. I catch Kellan’s gaze briefly and he nods, stepping back a few paces to give me more privacy with Melinda.

I look back down at Melinda, my heart still galloping in my chest. A wave of uncertainty washes over me. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that." I brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "The darkness–my feral nature–it's been there for so long, lurking beneath the surface, getting stronger every year. I never wanted you to witness that part of me, to see the monster I can become."

She leans into my touch, her eyes shining with a mixture of love and determination. "I'm not afraid of your darkness, because I know it's not all that you are. Even in the dark, I'll find you. I'll always find the light in you, no matter how deeply it's buried."

"We'll find each other," I promise, pulling her close and resting my forehead against hers. "No matter the darkness, we'll always find our way back to the light together."

Lost in the moment, I barely notice the sound of approaching footsteps until two maid servants turn the corner and freeze in place, their eyes widening at the sight of us. "So sorry to intrude, Prince Stormblood," they say in unison, quickly dropping into a low curtsy and keeping their gazes fixed on the floor.

I reluctantly step back from Melinda, composing myself before addressing the servants. "Not at all. We were just headed to the kitchens."

"Yes, your highness," both women reply, looking up at me with slightly pale cheeks, clearly uncomfortable at having stumbled upon such an intimate moment. But this is how it will be. I’m not letting Melinda out of my sight. Everyone and anyone that sees us will know she belongs to me. And that will unfortunately keep a target on her back. But she’s my choice. She’s also the only choice I have to survive what’s happening to me.

Pushing aside my concerns, I take Melinda's hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze, offering her a reassuring smile. "Come, my sweet girl, let's find you something to eat."

Kellan follows close behind us as I lead us through the passage, between a couple of out-buildings and toward a large square building with multiple chimneys. I glance back at him a few times. He’s tense and alert, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings. The encounter with my brother and the maids has put him on edge.

As we step into the kitchens, the bustling atmosphere envelops us. The heat from the ovens washes over my skin, and the clatter of pots and pans fills the air. Despite the lively environment, Kellan remains vigilant, positioning himself near the entrance and keeping a watchful eye on the kitchen staff.

Melinda's eyes widen with delight, momentarily distracted from the tension. Her stomach growls audibly, and a pretty blush colors her cheeks. "Sorry," she presses a hand to her stomach. "I didn't realize how hungry I was until just now."

"There’s plenty. The kitchens are cooking up a feast for tonight."

We navigate the bustling kitchen, the staff bowing and curtseying as we pass. I snag a couple of freshly baked honey cakes, their golden crusts glistening with a sugary glaze, and offer one to Melinda.

She accepts it with a delighted smile, taking a bite and letting out a soft moan of pleasure. "There’s nothing quite like fresh pastry."

I take a bite of mine and agree with a groan of approval. "There should be some meat pies somewhere. Let's get you something more substantial too." I lead her away from the baker and across to a different area of the kitchens toward the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat and flaky pastry dough.

As we navigate through the busy kitchen, we come across a small, secluded alcove tucked away from the main activity. A rough-hewn wooden table sits at the center, accompanied by a set of sturdy chairs. Flickering candles rest on the table, their warm glow casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. The distant chatter of the kitchen staff and the clatter of pots and pans create a lively backdrop to our impromptu dining area.

"Prince Stormblood, why don't you take Domina over and sit? I'll get us a variety of dishes and a flask of wine," Kellan suggests, gesturing toward the inviting table.

I bristle at Kellan's use of the term "us," implying that he will be joining Melinda and me for the meal. While I appreciate his dedication to protecting Melinda, I had hoped for more private time with her. The thought of Kellan intruding on our opportunity for intimate conversation leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Perfect. Thank you," Melinda says, before I can verbally object to being told what to do by her bodyguard.

The corners of Kellan's mouth turn up into a brief smirk before he turns away and strides over to the cook, who is surrounded by an array of foods. I clench my jaw, frustration simmering beneath the surface at Kellan's show of dominant behavior.

I guide Melinda to the table, pulling out a chair for her before taking my own seat beside her. The rough texture of the wooden chair beneath my fingers and the comforting warmth emanating from the candles create a cozy atmosphere.

Kellan returns to the table moments later, carrying a large tray laden with a tantalizing assortment. The aroma of freshly baked bread mingles with the savory scent of roasted meats and the sweet fragrance of ripe fruits, are making my mouth water.

As he sets the tray down on the table, the feast before us is revealed in all its glory. A loaf of crusty bread, its golden crust glistening with a generous brush of butter, sits alongside a platter of thinly sliced cured meats, each morsel a deep, rich hue. A wedge of creamy, pale cheese rests next to a bowl of plump, juicy grapes and slices of crisp, tart apples, their colors vibrant against the wooden tabletop.

Melinda's eyes widen at the sight of the food, a mixture of awe and longing etched across her face. "I’ve never seen food like this…" she trails off, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "We didn’t have a lot growing up. Not that I was starving, but this is so much…" She quickly shakes her head, as if to dispel the memories, and offers me a small, grateful smile that tugs at my heart.

I make a silent vow right there to make sure that she will never want for anything. That she will have the best foods. The best clothes. Every comfort I can provide for her. I will.

In the center of the tray, a steaming bowl of hearty stew beckons, its rich broth filled with tender chunks of meat, colorful root vegetables, and fragrant herbs. Beside it, a plate of flaky, golden-brown pastries oozes with the sweet, sticky filling of honeyed figs and toasted nuts, their aroma mingling with the savory scents of the other dishes.

Kellan places three plain horn cups on the table, their smooth surfaces catching the flickering candlelight. With a deft hand, he uncorks a flask of deep, ruby-red wine and pours a generous amount into each cup. The wine's rich, fruity aroma wafts through the air, promising a perfect complement to the delectable spread before us.

As Kellan takes his seat across from Melinda and me, he gestures to the feast with a satisfied smile. "Your kitchen staff has outdone themselves."

"They really have," she breathes, her voice filled with appreciation.