The Vampire & Her Witch

By the time Jocelynn’s mind had caught up with the fact that Ollie had entered her chambers while they were both still in their night clothes, he was already kneeling at the hearth.

He raked last night’s ashes aside with the iron poker, uncovering a few coals that still glowed a sullen orange, and fed them a handful of kindling from the basket beside the hearth. A moment later, he leaned down and blew a long, slow breath across the coals until the kindling caught with a soft whump, and small yellow flames began to lick at the wood. Then he laid two split logs crosswise over the flames with the ease of a man who had done this every morning for most of his life.

”There we are,” Ollie said proudly, sitting back on his heels and appraising his work as the fire began to crackle. ”It’ll take the chill off soon enough,” he said, holding his hand shockingly close to the flames for a moment as a faint, jade-green glow surrounded his hand, barely visible against the light of the flames.

The next instant, the fledgling flames had spread to the fresh logs, engulfing them as if they’d been soaked in oil before they settled down and started to crackle like a normal fire. A few sparks danced through the air, coming close to Ollie’s hand before he pulled it back, but the young knight barely seemed to notice.

Then he went to the cupboard beside the hearth and opened it as if he knew exactly what he would find inside. Perhaps he did. They weren’t actually Jocelynn’s chambers after all. They belonged to Ashlynn. Maybe he and Ashlynn shared morning meals here frequently...

”There was a festival with a grand market to celebrate Ashlynn and Lady Nyrielle’s betrothal,” Ollie said as he sorted through the cupboard. ”Ashlynn gave us all a bit of spending money to help ’spin the Wheel of Wealth faster,’” he explained, as if he’d read her mind.

”Since we share meals whenever we can, I asked the coven to let me stock our cupboards with the things we’d need to cook,” he said as he pulled out a heavy cast iron pan, then a smaller one, followed by a squat iron pot with a lid and a pair of three-legged trivets.

”Most of the supplies are upstairs, in the common area we share,” Ollie said. ”But your sister likes to entertain and cook for people who are important to her, so she keeps a set of everything for herself too,” he said, though he didn’t mention the third set that had found its way into the dark caverns behind the ancient fortress where Ashlynn spent most of her nights with Nyrielle.

Ollie set the trivets at the edge of the hearth where the heat would reach them and hung the pot from the iron arm above the flames, swinging it in until it hung just to one side of the fire. The pans went onto the trivets to warm, one by one, each settling into place with a dull clank.

”My sister really asked you to spend money to spin the Wheel of Wealth faster?” Jocelynn said, caught off guard enough that she paused before sitting in one of the plush armchairs near the hearth. ”Truly?”

”The Vale used to be a wealthy place, before the Lothians came here,” Ollie said, pausing while he watched the fire. ”It wasn’t wealthy the way Airgead Mountain is. There aren’t any treasures here. But it was one of the best paths for taking things from the lowlands across the mountains. Lots of merchants used to come here to trade, and even more went west from here.”

”By the time I got to the Vale, it was only a shadow of what it used to be,” Ollie said, shaking his head as he recalled the paintings Nyrielle had once shown him of what Mist City had looked like when she was a child. ”The people here didn’t have much money to spend with the merchants who came from across the mountains, and the refugees who settled in my village had even less.”

”So Ashlynn asked you all to spend money, even if you didn’t need new things,” Jocelynn said, nodding in understanding. ”Because that would give the people of the Vale money to spend on the goods the foreign merchants brought... And if the foreign merchants sold enough of their goods, they’d be encouraged to return to do even more business...”

”That’s what she said,” Ollie said, making a final adjustment to the trivets and the positions of the pots and pans. ”I don’t know if the merchants will come back or not, but it made everyone happy when we came to buy things, and that was good enough for me,” he said before turning his attention to the basket.

”I hope you’re hungry, Lady Jocelynn,” he said as he folded back the cloth. ”Ashlynn told us that you’ll be facing your Trial of Witchcraft in a few days, and if yours is like mine, you’ll be grateful for every hearty meal you eat between now and then.”

The eggs came out of the basket first, a full dozen of them nestled in a bed of straw, followed by a wedge of pale, mild cheese wrapped in cloth and a bundle of kitchen herbs tied with twine.

Next came a string of plump boar sausages, speckled with pepper and seasoning, and a small sack of mushrooms that still smelled of damp earth. Then a stoppered jug of cider, a small crock of honey sealed with wax, and a cloth pouch that rustled softly when he set it on the table. Last of all, a round loaf of bread with a dark, crackling crust.

”That’s last night’s bread,” Ollie said apologetically, turning the loaf over in his hands and giving it a thoughtful squeeze. ”I’d have made a bread pudding out of it if I could. Old bread’s the best for that; it drinks up the custard without falling apart, and the cranberries and walnuts would have gone well in it,” he said, nodding to the small cloth pouch.

”But there wasn’t any fresh milk to be had this morning,” Ollie said, sounding both disappointed and apologetic, as if he’d been looking forward to making a bread pudding and was sad that he couldn’t. ”You just can’t make a proper bread pudding without fresh milk.”

”But don’t worry,” he added quickly, as if he could already see her disappointment mirroring his own. ”It’ll make excellent toast. A bit of butter and honey, and you won’t even miss the pudding.”

He was already unrolling the leather bundle across the table as he spoke, revealing a row of knives in neat leather pockets, a long-handled fork, and a flat iron spatula worn smooth at the edge. He set the cutting board down beside them, picked out a knife, and tested its edge against his thumb.

”Just you sit yourself down by the fire and get warm,” Ollie said, flashing her another of those open, easy smiles as he began to sort through the herbs. ”We’ll have a hearty breakfast in no time.”

”This...” Jocelynn said, looking at the spread of ingredients on the sitting room’s small dining table with wide eyes. ”You brought all this to cook for me? When you ’just woke up?’”

”Of course,” Ollie said as if it were no big deal. ”Ashlynn is busy with Lady Nyrielle, getting ready for the ritual. Heila’s watching over Samira and Lady Olwyna. Virve can’t cook beyond putting freshly killed game on a spit over a campfire, and even then, it’s iffy,” he said with a light chuckle.

”Besides, you shouldn’t be alone right now,” he added in a more tender tone. ”The trial won’t be easy. Even Ashlynn is worried about this one, more than she was with me or Virve or Isabell. So, for the next few days, I’ll keep you company and help you to get ready,” he offered.

”Assuming you want me to,” he added, his face heating under the stubble as he finally realized that he might have overstepped. ”If you’d rather I not, then...”

”No,” Jocelynn said quickly, her face heating as she surprised herself with the strength of her reaction to the notion of him leaving. ”No, please stay. I, I’d like to have your company for the next few days. I’d like it very much...”