Chapter Thirteen

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It had been two weeks since Calanthe had arrived in Taryn

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It had been two weeks since Calanthe had arrived in Taryn. The Tarynians quickly accepted him into their community, teaching him their ways of life. Calanthe had been in the kitchen often, learning from the Head Chef Heidrun who spoke with the thickest accent. She explained that she came from the mountains of Hemingr and migrated with her family to Borinnblakkr years ago. The elderly woman's hair still held tinges of red highlights, though most of it had turned gray.

"I swear these buggers art a pesterin' lot," she had spat when she hit a roach with her rolling pin. She huffed, then wiped her hands on her apron before flashing a gummy smile. "Never mind the critters, dear. They come and go, and right now they art searchin' for refuge from the bitter cold. They wan' to take our food and eat just as much as we do, but remember they're pests and art no good for us."

Calanthe nodded, intently absorbing her knowledge. He'd never learned to cook or bake, only had head knowledge from the thousands of books he had read. He had specifically requested to learn to make bread, and she patiently taught him every step of the way. It was a rhythm she had explained.

"When we all art in here bakin' and cookin' away, we sing songs." She had paused in her kneading of the dough, glancing over Calanthe's flour covered hands. She laughed when she spotted it all over his face and in his hair. "We'll make a Tarynian out of you yet, dear."

Calanthe beamed. It was as if he were learning everything he should've learned from his deceased mother. He was ever grateful to the elders in Taryn for passing on their heritage and understanding of their culture and ways of life.

After Calanthe had spent the morning with Heidrun, he had left the castle to deliver the bread to a family in need in the city. Hrafn's children had accompanied him before they split off. Calanthe had watched Katla go to the training yard with Gunnar and Ulfr while Giselle had stayed behind, attending to Leifr and Eydis. Leifr clung to Giselle's hand while Eydis bounced around. Eydis' locks flew in the breeze and her heavy woolen cloak billowed around her.

"What was life like in Eglantine?" Giselle asked, gazing upwards to Calanthe, which wasn't far. Calanthe was only five feet and five inches. Giselle was near to his shoulder, and still growing like a weed.

Calanthe hummed, wondering if he should divulge the truth of the matter. Hyacinth had destroyed the ways of his ancestors, through her wrath towards her sister and his birth-mother Calista. Bad blood ran deep within many kingdoms, cultures, and places in Gharash and beyond.

"Well, Eglantine used to be a rich kingdom until Hyacinth's reign. The crown is passed from mother to daughter and it has been that way for eons," he stated, retelling it carefully to the young lass. "The current reigning queen is Queen Eleanora Ámarent, daughter of Hyacinth Ámarent. She..." he began then his thoughts fled him. How could he explain that she wasn't his sister anymore? She wasn't by birth. He skipped that bit and continued, "One day, you will see how powerful she can be. Eleanora is the strongest woman I have ever met."

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