A Kiss of Fire (A Kiss of Magic #2)(30)

Damn it!

He walked quickly to the table and sat down, hiding the rampant reaction of his body to the sight of her. She looked at him in disdain because he had not done her the courtesy of seeing her seated before him. Sin cursed himself, but there was nothing he could do about it now. She took her seat. He opened his mouth to say something, but just then the door swung open and in walked two servers bearing trays laden with food. In Saren there were footmen and elaborately designed dining tables and all the polite practices that went with them. Here the dishes were left on another table that had been set up to the side of them and the servants left.

Having gotten himself under control, he stood up and picked up her plate before she could ask any questions or get up for herself.

“I will serve you,” he said simply.

“I can serve myself,” she snapped, rising to do just that. But he quelled her with an intense look. He did not mean to threaten her, only to let her know that he was not to be gainsaid.

He walked to the side table and viewed the array of dishes.

“I have had the kitchen provide for us a selection of some of my favorite Kiltian dishes. So that you might get to know our favorite foods and the spices we use. We import our spice sand, our grain, and produce from Hellendorn. It is the shortest distance from us…only two days by ship, and allows us to get them relatively fresh. But by next autumn the farms will be producing in earnest and we will not have to import every last potato or onion.”

“Next autumn? But you have had the land for two autumns.”

“We gave the Sarens living on the land the entirety of the first winter to move away unmolested. Those by spring who were still there…those too stubborn to leave…we forcibly removed. We allowed the business owners in the towns and villages to stay, but the farms…those were ours.” He began to fill her plate. “We then had to find the grain and seeds with which to grow these first crops. The machinery to do the farming like plows and threshers, and the livestock needed to pull that equipment, such as oxen. Between that and the process of distributing the land in the first place, there was no time for any decent crops to be planted.”

He turned to her and placed her plate down in front of her. “This annum was the backbreaking work of breaking through sod for the first time. The soil is good, but the sod makes it slow, tough going. We paid many of your farmers to show us how to work the soil, but as you know it can be temperamental if not planted the right way. We will do better this autumn. Our shaman, the Anima—what you would call Padoni—those who can manipulate nature, have to learn how to make things grow in this kind of soil. It does not come overnight.”

She picked up her fork once he had seated himself with his own full plate before him, and politely waited for him to take his first bite.

“You needn’t do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Wait for me. If you are hungry you should eat. We do not stand on ceremony here.”

“Just because I am no longer in Saren does not mean I might forget my manners.”

“Perhaps you should. Perhaps you need to relax and not be so worried about being judged for your every little action or deed. I will not judge you.”

“Your judgment, whatever its bent, does not matter to me. I couldn’t care less what you thought of me.” She stabbed at a potato with her fork and popped it into her mouth. He watched her chew and waited. Her eyes widened as the flavor of the potato dish as well as its crispy texture registered on her.

Though she had been there for several meals already, he had ordered it be simple, bland fare. Baked chicken, plain potatoes. Simple broth. He had designed it that way on purpose so he could share the first flavors of his culture with her. Their use of spices, both delicate and complex, their cooks some of the best in the world, made for extraordinarily delicious cuisine. At least, he thought so. And apparently she did to. She began to taste everything with a measure of eagerness.

Clearly unable to help herself she said, “This is wonderful!”

“I thank you. My head cook is the best around. She has a special touch when it comes to food. It will be made even better when our produce is fresher and home grown. Plus, we will have access to fruits and vegetables that normally do not keep well enough for a sea voyage. Now with farms we will have more livestock. Fresh meat. Before this we were left to eating grains and preserved vegetables for most of the winter. Outside of the high mountain goats, there was not much game to be found. Now we can breed our own meat. We brought over many types of farm animals this annum, importing them from all over the world.”

She smiled at that, “Plus you now have the forests for hunting. They are teeming with game.”

“Exactly.”

She slowly picked up a pearl sized onion with her fork and placed it in her mouth. She chewed, swallowed and said, “Were you starving?”

He hesitated in answering. “We were not starving. The riches of our mines had us able to buy most of the grain we needed. But without a well-rounded diet there are other things that come up. Scurvy, for one. Hopic for another. Rickets.”

“Hopic?”

“The skin turns an almost orange color. I don’t know what the deficiency is that caused it. The apothecary thinks it is from lack of green vegetables.”

“That’s horrible,” she said with intense feeling. “How were you able to sustain a war while plagued with such conditions?”