Page 90 of Spirit Rites

The woman scoffs. “Our king is missing, our kingdom is in a state of chaos, and you want to know what we love to eat?”

I repeat my same answer. “Yes.”

“Why?” the woman demands.

I hold her gaze. “Because I love food.” She rolls her eyes so hard, I’m worried her eyes are going to get stuck. “But it will also help me to better understand each of you.”

“By learning what our favorite food is?” the woman’s voice is thick with derision.

“Yes. I’ll go first. My name is Kinsley, and I love to eat,” I pause thinking a moment. “Those raspberry pastries Vance makes.”

There’s silence in the room, and then the woman huffs a little. “Well, of course. His pastries are the best in the kingdom.”

I bite my lip, so I don’t smile. “So, who’s next?” I turn to the maybe oldest man sitting next to me. “You go.”

He doesn’t even bother to look at me. “My name is Halric.”

I give him a moment. When he doesn’t continue, I prompt him, “And your favorite food?”

He scowls. “Stag.”

I nod approvingly. “Great choice. Next.” I nod at the woman sitting next to him.

She stiffens and sits higher in her chair. “My name is Eldara.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” The comment slips out before I think about it. I’m not saying it to suck up; it really is a beautiful name. I can tell the comment startled her, though.

“Thank you,” she says stiffly. “My favorite food is Forager’s Pie.”

“I’m not familiar with that. It is a fruit pie?”

She turns her head sharply. “It is most definitely not a fruit pie.”

“Okay. What is it then?” I prompt.

“The base is a brown gravy, and you make any meat you find out while hunting as well as herbs and spices. Then you top it with a bread topping and bake it.”

“Oh my goodness. That sounds amazing. You’ll have to tell me how to make that; I want to try it.” My words aren’t a lie. I’m suddenly hungry, and I remember I never ate at Rysden and Farrah’s.

The woman gives me a stiff nod, and I move on. The man on the other side of the table looks to be the youngest, though he’s still older than me by probably a few decades. “My name is Corvin. I love my mate’s meat pies.”

“Mmm. I bet they’re delicious.” My gaze moves to the last man.

He speaks without any prompting on my part. “Brenvar. Clay custard.”

“I’m not familiar with that one either. What is that?” I ask.

“It’s a hot custard in between to layers of crust that’s baked in a clay dish.”

“Why?” I ask. “Why is it baked in a clay dish?”

The woman finally turns to look at me. “Because they hold the flavor in. Most people don’t bake anything else in that particular clay dish than clay custard; the flavor gets richer the more times you make it.”

I lean back in my chair. “I’m going to have to learn how to make that too. I need to see if Kaldar has one of those dishes.” My stomach growls, and I put my hand on my stomach, smiling. “Okay enough talk about food. I’m starving.”

At those words, four sets of eyes settle on me. “We can wait,” Eldara says. “While you eat.” Her words are stiff, like it was hard to say them.

I smile genuinely at her. “I’m fine right now. Thank you, though.” I take a deep breath. “All right. Let’s deal with the biggest problem first. After that, everything else will be a cake walk.” I level a look at each of them. “Vaelor.”