A Court of Heart and Fealty | Rhysand

Chapter 27: A Muddled Mind

Chapter 27: A Muddled Mind

Galadriel yanked the drawer open, metal and wood rattling within. Silver gleamed up at her, reflecting her face, distorted and broken upon the long shapes of the forks and spoons. Not what she needed.

"Can I help you?"

Peeking over her shoulder, she sent Rhys a wry smile. "I broke my good knife. I can't remember where yours are. To borrow, of course," she added. The kitchen in the town house wasn't obnoxiously large, but there were a dozen more drawers fitted into all the nooks and crannies. Shoving the top one of the counter near the pantry shut, she pulled the one below it open. "How do you find anything in here?"

"Admittedly I don't do much cooking." Rhysand wandered into the kitchen, his hand grazing the low of her back as he skirted around her hunched form. "Running a court and all."

She rolled her eyes, shutting the drawer since it clearly wasn't the right one when he went to a completely different part of the kitchen. Reaching for a cupboard near his head, he opened it to reveal an array of knives, the handles bone.

"These are my spares. What type do you need?"

Resting her hip against the stone countertop, she said, "Something good for meat."

With a flourish, he extracted a knife with a broad blade, the handle thick and easy to grab. Summoning a cloth, he wrapped it neatly for her, placing it on the countertop next to her basket. Inside it was her freshest batch of butter scones. Flicking the red cloth back, Rhys peered in, giving a satisfied hum.

"You never told me how the cookies were," she noted, watching him readjust the cloth back in place. "They were a new recipe. Swapped some things around."

He swiped a mug from a hook, setting it down on the bench. "Did you learn that at the little patisserie you've been working at?" He gestured to the mug and ceramic jug of loose tea leaves. "Would you like a drink?"

She nodded. Winter had been driving the last dregs of autumn out and the sky was pale with clouds that threatened an early dusting of snow. A warm tea was exactly what she needed.

With his back turned to her as he made their drinks, Galadriel bit her lip, eyes pointed to the window just next to him. "I did."

"You don't sound excited," he mused, head cocked slightly so his ear was directed at her. As if he couldn't already hear the depth and pattern of her breathing.

"It's..." Breaking off, she shrugged though she knew he could see. "I like having something to do and helping out."

Leaving the tea to steep, Rhys rolled around, bracing the small of his back against the marble, one foot crossed over the other. "But it's not what you want to do?" After a moment of hesitation, she nodded. He sighed. "I can't put you back out as a spy. Not even in Hewn City."

"I'm not asking you to. I know that chance is gone for me." Kicking off the counter, Galadriel aimed for the white ceramics jars near where he stood, stealing a spoon along the way. Popping the lid off one labelled with 'sugar' she heaped a spoonful into hers, arching a brow at him in question.

"Two. Please."

"You have a sweet tooth," she noted, obliging and lopping another two teaspoons into the other mug. "The scones are sweet enough by themselves, but I recommend jam and just a dollop of cream to kick up the flavour."

He plucked the spoon from her hand before she could place it aside, licking off the remnants of half-melted sugar and drops of tea. "I'll have one after dinner. Though the others are coming down soon so I'm not sure there will be any left by then."