Another World

Chapter 47

"Quick! Hide me."

Aranhil glanced up, momentarily caught by surprise as Charlotte scampered into the kitchen, looking wild-eyed and her face slightly flushed.

He halted with his efforts of mixing the contents within the bowl tucked in the crook his arm, and a smile quirked on his lips. "What has Hérion done now?"

By now he had grown accustomed to Charlotte seeking refuge in his kitchen.

Charlotte leaned against the white-washed cupboard, breathing deeply through her nose, no doubt having high-tailed it here.

She gave Aranhil a pointed look, one that said plainly: need you ask?

The chef grinned widely, showing perfect white teeth. Then, shaking his head, he resumed mixing. "Let me wager a guess: Hérion had you working on your posture today?"

Charlotte pushed away from the cupboard and pointedly slumped down on the chair, resting her elbows on the surface of the table and cradled her head in her hands.

"My back is killing me. I thought once we had progressed past fine dining, the other stuff would be a piece of cake." She lifted her head, and Aranhil noted the tiredness etched on her features. "He's like a drill sergeant, Aranhil; merciless and relentless in his efforts to torture me. This whole week I've had to learn to sit properly, talk preposterously, and learn formal greetings and etiquette. I don't know how much more of this I can take," she groaned.

Aranhil, taking pity on the human who was fast becoming akin to a friend, placed his mixing bowl on the counter and came to sit opposite her, making sure to push a tray of cookies in her direction.

Charlotte perked up instantly. Taking a sugar cookie from the platter, Charlotte bit into it, the fine crumbs dusting the front of her dress, though she paid no heed.

"Which excuse did you use to escape today?" he enquired.

Glancing over his shoulder, Aranhil signaled to another maiden working close by to bring over some tea.

Charlotte chewed her mouthful and after swallowing, she gave him a conspiratorial look. "I told him that I needed to use the little girl's room."

Aranhil frowned at the unknown phrase.

"Restroom, privy, bathroom, toilet, lavatory. Take your pick," she explained with a wave of her hand.

"Ah," he said, now comprehending her meaning.

Yesterday her excuse had been that she had forgotten something in her room. The day before it had been that she urgently needed to pass on a message to Maerwen. Hérion was no fool – quite the opposite - and Aranhil greatly suspected that the royal advisor let Charlotte get away with her exploits simply to garner a break of his own.

A maiden with sky-blue eyes and chocolate brown hair tied back in intricate braids on the side approached their table with a tray of the requested tea and set it down on the tabletop with care.

"Oh, I could kiss you!" Charlotte enthused, reaching for her already prepared tea. "Thank you so much."

Charlotte was a regular visitor to the kitchen, and the rest of the kitchen staff had quickly learned her predilection of how she took her tea and what sweet treats she was particular to.

The maiden ducked her head, her cheeks tinged pink at such a proclamation, though a shy smile graced her youthful features. Charlotte's odd mannerisms still took some getting used to.

Charlotte cradled the cup between her hands, blowing on the hot liquid to cool it down. Taking a tentative sip, she gave an appreciative hum.

"Tonight, you dine in the Great Halls," Aranhil stated as the elleth discreetly went back to her tasks.