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Lord Kosenmark removed the young man’s arms from around Ilse.
“She’s pretty,” Gerhart mumbled.
“Very pretty,” Kosenmark agreed. “But you don’t want to keep her from the kitchens.”
Lord Gerhart blinked. “I don’t?”
“Of course not. See Johanna waving? She wants to hear about the baron’s dinner party. She told me so.”
Lord Gerhart paused, swaying. When Johanna blew him a kiss, he broke into smiles and stumbled toward her. Ilse knelt to pick up the broken wine cup. Splinters of glass pricked her fingers. She wrapped her hand in a napkin and brushed the shards onto the tray, trying to ignore Lord Kosenmark’s presence.
Kosenmark knelt beside her and plucked another shard from the rug. “You should not be out here,” he said quietly. “Have Mistress Raendl send Rosel or Janna in your place.”
Ilse shook her head. “I’m not afraid, my lord.”
“You aren’t? Look at me then.”
He was studying her with the same assessing look he’d given her earlier, when he asked her about the maps. Ilse bore it steadily, though her cheeks were hot. “You are afraid,” he said softly. “And I will not have my servants teased and tormented.” He paused. “Unless you believe I would rather torment you myself.”
“Ne’muj Panvíje,” she said. “No, my lord. But I would like to make another try.”
“Ah.” Humor lit his eyes then. “Understood. As you wish.”
He stood, his movement unhurried, and selected a new wine cup from those Ilse had brought. He filled it and crossed the room, where an energetic conversation was taking place between several older men. Kosenmark smoothly inserted himself into the group and the conversation. Ilse watched a moment longer, but Kosenmark seemed entirely engrossed by his companions and did not look back.
Laughter broke out in one corner. Lord Gerhart was nuzzling Johanna, who giggled and shrieked with delight. Other couples were joining in the card game. Ilse drew a long breath. Another tray waited for her in the kitchen. Another after that, if Lord Kosenmark’s guests continued their thirsty mood. And she would have to expect more teasing from the girls. Lys especially liked to play pranks. If that’s what it took to win their friendship, then she would try to take it with good humor. Think of that, she told herself, and not what takes place in the private rooms above.
She picked up the tray and hurried back to the kitchens.
CHAPTER NINE
AS ILSE EXPECTED, Mistress Raendl scolded her for breaking the wine cup. “Lys is sick. Janna is playing games no doubt with that boy from the stables. I’ll have a word with her, too, when she gets back. I should send Steffi out, but you’ve got to learn the trade some time.” Still muttering, she sent Ilse back into the common room with a new tray and a warning about malingering. Dana and Steffi snickered behind their hands.
The next day, however, Mistress Raendl did not send Ilse into the common room. Nor the next. The other girls noticed—Ilse could tell from their half-finished conversations in the dormitory and the looks they gave her. No one said or did anything obvious, but after two more days of silent glares, Ilse approached Mistress Raendl.
“Lord Kosenmark said one of the guests frightened you,” Mistress Raendl said to her questions. “Thought you were one of the courtesans, being drunk.”
“But Mistress Raendl, I told Lord Kosenmark I wasn’t afraid.”
Mistress Raendl eyed her with faint astonishment. “You told Lord Kosenmark?”
Ilse flushed.
“Tell me,” said Mistress Raendl in a milder voice. “Does it bother you still? The courtesans, I mean, and what they do here.”
Yes, Ilse thought, but she would not say it. Nor could she tell Mistress Raendl about the girls and how they viewed her treatment as a special favor. She curtsied, which brought an impatient laugh from Mistress Raendl, and went silently to the counters and the heaps of garlic and mushrooms and onions piled up for cutting.
I do need more time, she thought, as she fine-minced a clove of garlic. Months or years. But however long, I will get used to seeing touches and kisses and open desire. I have to.
“Don’t chop so fast,” Kathe said, as she passed behind Ilse. “You’ll cut your fingers.”
“An
d bleed all over the food,” Ilse said. She had done that her first time chopping and had suffered both laughter and a scolding.
Kathe took the station next to Ilse and started paring fresh carrots into fanciful shapes. She worked quickly and deftly, the knife flashing between her fingers. Kathe liked the pleasure house well enough, she had told Ilse, but eventually she would leave for a better position, ruling her own kitchen in some other lord’s household. Lord Kosenmark would certainly give her an excellent recommendation.
I wish I could go with her. It won’t be the same when she’s gone.
