Go away, that meant. Dorrin leaned back on the main worktable. She valued Farin—and Natzlin—for the years of her service in the Duke’s Company, but she was not going to be driven out. She glanced at Natzlin, whose expression she remembered from years before. So. Farin and Natzlin? Unlikely as it seemed—veteran soldier and cook—Farin would be a far better companion than Barranyi had been. If it gave Natzlin peace … well enough.

“If the two of you wish to partner,” she said, staring Farin down, “that’s fine with me. It’s not my business. However, with the king coming to visit, this kitchen is my business.”

“The king is coming?” Farin said, turning pale.

“Yes. After Queen Arian leaves Vérella—and we don’t know when that will be—he’s coming here with an entourage. I need your best estimate of our reserves and what we can expect in eggs, milk, and garden produce tenday by tenday until Midsummer—he’s coming before then. There’ll be no more use of any fancy foods—nuts, preserves—we can’t replace within, say, two tendays.”

“Yes, my lord. Sorry, my lord. I thought…”

“Even if you’d thought correctly, Farin, I won’t be rushed out of my own kitchen.”

Efla came out of the pantry with the pastries. Dorrin took two. “I’m going to miss these,” she said as she nodded to the kitchen as a whole and walked out.

Natzlin and Farin—an attachment would, she realized, solve a persistent problem with her old veteran. The wounds suffered in Kieri’s defense more than a year ago still affected her. Dorrin had promoted her to sergeant—the only clear choice after Vossik’s death—but Natzlin struggled in that position—mounting was increasingly difficult, for one thing. Partnering with Farin might be a reason she’d accept for moving from patrol duties to something less strenuous. And Farin would keep watch on her physical well-being.

Dorrin ate the pastries, looking out over the fields below where cattle grazed and wondered how long it would take Kieri to get Arian pregnant.

CHAPTER EIGHT

In a Pargunese forest

It is done,” the dragon said. “You have completed your tasks.”

“All of them?” Stammel asked. He took a breath of the fresh spring air, still chill this morning but alive now with growing things.

“All in that phase.” The dragon had explained that its solid eggs were filled with crystalline shards each capable of hatching into the first immature form of a dragon. “I must now convey the eggs and unhatched shards to a safe place far away. You have done me great service, Stammel, and now I can return you to your home.”

“I could still help,” Stammel said.

“No.” The dragon’s voice was gentle but implacable. “What I must do now, you cannot do.”