A Magic Steeped in Poison (The Book of Tea #1) (24)

“And now with the competition, there are many more mouths to feed,” a sour-faced woman across the table says. “We have so much more to do with much less.”

“At least they’re here, Mingwen,” Qiuyue tells her. “They’re helping. Not like…” Her voice trails off as a commotion arises in the doorway. Our attention is drawn to two maidservants, dressed in sleek finery, like two peacocks strutting in a crowd of plain yellow-tuft chickens. A harried-looking servant points in our direction.

“Like the worthless lumps hovering around the court?” Mingwen sniffs and then grudgingly agrees. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

One of the peacock girls, her robes in a delicate shade of green and her sash a deep azure, comes over with her head raised.

“Where’s the tray for the marquis?” she demands. “He grows impatient. He needs to attend to his guests.”

Mingwen purses her lips, like she’s considering saying something sharp to the girls, but then decides against it.

“The desserts are ready,” she finally says after a long, awkward pause. Snapping her fingers, she gestures for the man beside her to bring what is needed. He returns with a beautiful lacquered red basket, gold designs of leaves and flowers winding their way up the handle. The lid has painted red birds perched on black vines curving in beguiling patterns.

The maidservant appears displeased, and she folds her hands in front of her, refusing to take the offered basket. The man stands there, uncertain, looking over at Mingwen.

The older woman lifts a brow. “Is there a problem?”

“We have to examine everything.” The maidservant smiles sweetly. “To ensure that it is up to the standards of the marquis.”

“Of course,” Mingwen says with exaggerated sincerity. She gestures for the man to place the basket on the table and lifts the lid with a flourish, waving him away. “Anything for the marquis.”

She pulls out the inner tray and lays it upon the table. Bite-size sesame balls are clustered in blue porcelain bowls. Lotus blossom cookies sit on another plate; each bloom is the size of my palm, fried to golden perfection. There is also a small tray of milky white jellies, sliced into squares and rolled in shredded coconut. The young woman examines the desserts with a critical eye before nodding and returning them to the basket, then tucking it under one arm.

The other maidservant joins us, arms laden with trays. “But where are the pastries? The additional order was placed earlier this morning. He will not be pleased if they are missing.”

“Come.” Qiuyue grabs my arm and guides me back to the other side of the table. “They’ll continue to posture at each other, then we’ll be scolded for the work piling up.”

I return my attention this time to rolling balls of sweetened red bean paste, destined for the inside of pastries. Beside me, Qiuyue rolls out the thin wrappers that will turn into the flaky topping. With nimble fingers, she tucks the red bean balls into the dough pockets, shapes them into discs, and places the toppers above. They are ready now for the egg wash that gives them a beautiful yellow color.

When the maidservants are finally sent off, Mingwen returns to the table with a huff and attacks the bowl of red bean paste with frenzied energy.

“Who do they think they are?” she mutters, hands moving quickly. “All our departments are busy, but the marquis assumes we have time to cater to his every request.”

“I’m sure they are under pressure as well,” Qiuyue offers, establishing who has the more positive outlook in this group of servants.

Mingwen snorts, but before she says anything further, a look of panic flits across her face. “She’s here,” she hisses. “Look busy.”

Steward Yang stalks into the bakery, wearing a scowl worthy of a thunderstorm.

“Small Wu!” she barks. The tall man walks over to her and bows. Everyone lowers their gaze and pretends to be attentive to their jobs, but I know we are all straining to hear what she wants. “I heard from Marquis Kuang’s household that the pastries they asked for have not yet arrived,” the steward says with displeasure. “I don’t like hearing complaints about any of our departments.”

Small Wu scratches the back of his head. “Uh, we are a bit delayed because of the buns we have to make for tonight’s banquet. They sent over the request midmorning and we are still catching up.”

“Unacceptable!” Steward Yang claps her hands together, making me and Qiuyue jump. “We treat every guest of the emperor like we are serving his own distinguished presence.”

She approaches us, and her gaze scrutinizes us all, just like when she examined the competitors before the first round. I hold my breath, hoping she does not notice me. But the stars do not smile upon me today, for her shadow falls across the table.

She looks down at me. “And who are you?”

My mind goes blank. I must have appeared like a gaping fish, because Small Wu comes to my rescue.

“This is one of the new hires,” he says without missing a step, giving her a placid smile. “We needed more help because of the competition.”

“If she’s one of the new girls, then she won’t be as quick at the pastries. Come with me. And where is Qing’er?” She marches away.

I look around, desperate for help. I can see Lian hiding on the other side of the room.