Fin’s entire body ached as he sat on the chair at his cooking table. While he had slept a solid nine hours, he knew he needed more to makeup for the long stretch of time he had been without a proper nights rest.

It was alright though, because the Beltane festival was finally over. The diplomats would leave that very day while the majority of merchant ships remained docked due to most of the crews and captains having been up late.

He sat cradling his cup of coffee with Kraken asleep on the stool to his right, while the very last left stool where the prince normally sat, remained empty.

Outside it looked as though everything were peaceful. A cloudless sunny day, a gentle breeze, birds chirping… it was the polar opposite to Fin’s insides.

The cook was in the middle of deciding what to eat for breakfast, when the door opened a crack, and in slipped the future ruler of the continent.

“Morning Eric.” Fin called out wearily while giving the child a brief smile. The lad looked bedraggled himself as he managed a grin, and climbed into the only unoccupied seat beside Fin.

“You’re the first one up?” The cook asked while wondering if he cared about Eric learning he was a witch if it meant he didn’t have to move to get the boy food.

“Yeah… mom is up sick ‘cause of the baby, but other than that no one else is awake. It’s like this every year… last year most of us didn’t even wake up until dinner time.” Eric explained as Fin slowly poured the boy some milk he had gotten up and retrieved from the cold hole, then tossed a few pieces of bread in his skillet over the fire.

The cook began whisking some eggs as well, and pulling out thick strawberry jam from the cooling hole on the table, while the boy used the back of his hands to wipe residual sleep from his eyes.

“Did you have fun?” Fin queried as he moved the golden toast out of the pan and poured in the scrambled eggs.

As he buttered the bread, the smell of the eggs filled the kitchen, and Eric began inhaling deeply through his nose.

“Why do those eggs smell different?” He wondered curiously.

“They smell different because I mixed in some dried dill with salt, pepper, and a tiny bit of dried garlic.” Fin explained before turning with a wooden spoon to start making sure their breakfast cooked evenly.

The boy breathed in deeply then let out a long contented sigh.

“It smells sooo good!” His feet began swinging under his chair in anticipation.

Fin grinned, then pulled out two plates. He loaded them up with food, and as the eggs continued steaming on the wooden plates, Fin pulled out a cantaloupe from the fruit bowl, and had it cut into bite size pieces in no time. He topped off their plates with a bundle of crisp green grapes each, and joined the prince at the table.

“You didn’t answer how the festival was.” Fin pointed out while he picked up his fork and leaned his forearms onto the table.

“MMMM!” The prince had taken his first bite of eggs and had closed his eyes briefly before hastily chewing and shoveling another bite into his mouth.

Fin waited patiently while laughing slightly to himself.

“It was good! Morgan rode on the carriage in front of me, and we got to take turns throwing candy on different sides of the road. I had the better candy though!” Eric grinned his cheeks so stuffed full of food he resembled a chipmunk.

“Don’t choke.” Fin reminded while taking a deep drink of his coffee.

The boy abided and took his time chewing; though it was evident he had more to say.

“Did you go to the festival?” Eric returned happily while once again filling his mouth with food.

“A little bit. By the time I got there, the fireworks were going to start and the stalls were closing down, but I… I walked through the rose maze.” Fin hesitated a little, his fork hovering in front of his mouth for a moment as he remembered Annika Jenoure standing in the moonlight in her bright teal dress, and her almost… innocent, expectant expression.

“By yourself?” Eric sounded surprised as he turned to face Fin seriously. “Mom and dad say that’s where people go to fall in love.”

“I—uh—no, not by myself. I had a friend with me.” The cook was blushing, and was trying to hide it by shoveling eggs into his mouth.

The slow growing smile on Eric’s face filled the witch with apprehension.

“Fiiiin, you like a giiiiiiiirl!”

The cook choked, and immediately reached for his coffee cup.

“No, it really was just a friend! A man friend.” Fin tried but Eric was giggling so much he had turned a lovely shade of radish red.

“Fin likes a giiiiiirl, Fin likes a giiiiiirl.” The seven year old chanted while laughing so hard that milk had started dribbling out of his nose.

“Well do you like any girls?” Fin decided to change the subject as he sipped his coffee with watering eyes.

Eric’s laughter died down and he looked at Fin as though he were an idiot.

“Of course I do.”

The cook gave the prince a look of confusion, before the boy threw his hands up in the air.

“My mom! So I know all about girls. Have you tried giving her flowers? My mom loves it when I give her flowers.”

Fin rubbed his face, then moved his hand to the back of his neck as he stared at the young royal, and debated pouring himself a second cup of coffee.

“I don’t have a girl I like Eric, but if I did, you’d be the person I’d talk to about it. That is, if you don’t mind.” The prince sighed in a way that made him sound wiser than his years, and gave Fin a look of utter disbelief.

As the witch turned back to his breakfast awkwardly, he found an unwelcome image flash through his mind of Annika smiling down into a bouquet of various kinds of bright field flowers.

He shook his head, clearing the image away.

Seven year olds had no idea what they were talking about.

*

King Norman stood at the top of the castle steps as he watched the carriages carrying Earl Piereva and his aides down the long road grow smaller and smaller.

Ainsley had entered into an unpleasant phase of her pregnancy where she found herself horribly ill periodically throughout the day, meaning she was exempt from the happy occasion of getting rid of awful nobles.

The representative from Zinfera stepped forward wearing blue silk robes, and his long ebony hair twisted into a bun atop his head.

“Your majesty, as always it is a pleasure to visit your land.” The man named Jiho bowed deeply, and rose with a polite smile.

“On behalf of my Kingdom, thank you for gracing us with your attendance of Beltane.” Norman bowed politely, and was ready to bid the man his last farewell, when Jiho gave a small nod to his entourage behind him. Everyone but the diplomat stepped back, until it was only the King and himself at the top of the castle entryway. Captain Antonio’s posture stiffened as he stood at the far end of the long step, and several other Knights stood down the steps to the ground as well ready to spring into action if the need arose.

“I hope your majesty knows what a rare, and fortunate blessing he has in his midst.” Jiho’s warm eyes made Norman relax, but furrow his brow in confusion. “I happened to be a friend to a certain cook many years ago. He will bring nothing but happiness to your home.” Jiho bowed again, and stepped back, leaving Norman looking completely stunned.

The King didn’t stop the Zinferan from leaving to explain further however, and instead mulled over the message as he watched the carriage disembark.

When the monarch strolled back into a far quieter castle, he headed towards the kitchen. He had a few bones to pick with the witch in question anyway.

*

The King stood squarely in front of the cook, his legs braced, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Why did you use magic in the banquet hall the night you were summoned before me?” The King demanded eyeing the cook as the man lifted a plate off of a large bowl to reveal a marinated mess of raw meat.

The monarch wrinkled his nose, until the smell hit him.

The sauce… was unlike anything he had ever smelled before.

“Pardon my behavior your majesty.” Fin bowed, his hands falling to his sides, which drew the King’s attention back to the task at hand.

“When… Lord Piereva… I-I responded strongly to his attitude towards his sister.” Fin knew he had made no sense, but hoped the King was perceptive enough to understand.

Sure enough, the noble’s stern expression softened for a moment, which Fin was unable to see as he remained bowed.

“While I understand you were under a stressful situation, you will refrain from using your magic to meddle in affairs that are not your own.”

“I understand your majesty. I am still learning about control for my abilities in this new environment.”

The King said nothing for a moment, but the smell of the marinade was beginning to become too much of a distraction.

“You may rise. However this is your last warning. Should you find yourself unable to control such outbursts, I will force you to apprentice with mage Lee.”

Fin’s frozen expression as he stared unblinking at the King, succeeded in making the ruler of an entire continent concerned.

“Your majesty, I will respect your wishes and orders to the best of my capabilities. However… mages do not know how our magic works.” The cook attempted delicately.

“Mages are not simply taught magic, they are also taught control, and meditation to best hone their abilities, and awareness.” The King defended sternly.

"Is that why mage Lee burst in here demanding a duel?”

Fin clamped his mouth shut.

He knew he had said too much.

The King’s eyes widened, and his left hand casually rested on the dagger on his belt.

The witch did the only thing he could think to do. He grabbed his skillet, dropped a dollop of butter in the cast iron, then place it over the flames while maintaining eye contact with the King.

The monarch was about to interrupt the process, when Fin magically floated the thin strips of steak into the pan, and a foreign aroma, that made the ruler’s mouth salivate, filled the room.

“What is… What is that?”

“Sire this here, is a way of cooking beef that I learned from an old friend from Zinfera. I have not been able to recreate it for quite some time, however your foreign diplomats gifted your majesty spices and pastes that are grown and made in their Kingdom.”

Norman said nothing as Fin waved his finger, and the meat flipped over to reveal golden tinged, fully cooked beef.

“What is it called?” Norman demanded a little too hastily.

“Bulgogi beef, your highness.” Fin removed the pan from the flames, and gestured to a bundle of lettuce leaves that rested on a plate, as well as a bowl of what the King recognized as rice, and a strange reddish pile of what looked like marinated cabbage or onions.

The King’s eyes were glued to the food, making Fin give a small smile to himself as he noticed the similarities between Eric and his father.

The cook picked up a lettuce leaf, scooped up some of the rice into it, then the reddish mix, topped with a beautiful slice of meat.

“The red stuff is called kimchi. It is a form of fermented cabbage, and other vegetables sire. It is relatively similar to the sauerkraut that the Troivackian people are famous for.” Fin proffered the filled lettuce leaf to the King, and summoned a tankard of ale for him.

The monarch gave him a dubious expression, then bit into the wrap.

It was messy.

It was unusual.

It was the King’s new favorite food.

The strong flavor of beef was complimented with others that the King had never fathomed existed, the crispy lettuce added texture, and the zip of the kimchi…

Suffice it to say, the first pan of beef was quickly cleared.

*

“Ah Ruby! Have you seen his majesty?” Queen Ainsley finally found someone who could potentially tell her where her husband had disappeared off to in the middle of the day.

“I am not sure your grace, I seem to recall him discussing a matter with Royal Mage Lee after the diplomats left.” Ruby gave a deep curtsey, and then resumed carrying the pile of crisply folded linens up to the guest chambers.

It took Ainsley another hour, but she finally found the mage sipping tea in the gardens with Lady Emily Gauva.” They both stood hastily, and paid their respects.

“Lady Gauva please excuse me, I have need for Mage Lee for a moment.”

The Lady did a hasty curtsy and scurried away, her blonde locks bouncing in the fading daylight.

“Lee have you seen my husband anywhere? I haven’t glimpsed him since this morning.”

For some reason unbeknownst to the Queen, the mage looked… gleeful at the question.

“I heard he went downstairs to speak with the cook. He must have lots to say to him.” There was a strange cackle in the mage’s voice that immediately made the Queen narrow her gaze suspiciously.

“I hope he is giving the Royal Cook Finlay his unrefined thanks. The food he prepared was so incredible that the foreign diplomats could not stop raving about it. The sheer amount of work he has given while understaffed is nothing short of miraculous.”

The mage’s face slowly fell, to an expression that was far more subdued.

“Yes. He is talented.” He sounded strained.

“If you will excuse me, I am going to go see if his majesty is still there.” The mage bowed once more as the Queen left the courtyard swiftly.

As Ainsley neared the kitchens, she could hear loud voices, but they weren’t shouting or distressed…

Slowly, she opened the door, and when she processed the sight before her, dropped her jaw.

“It’sss the Queeeen!” Norman announced brandishing his empty tankard up as Fin gave a quick bow, and an apologetic expression.

“Norm- your majesty, are you ill?” Ainsley’s eyes darted between her husband and the cook.

The King stood, and swayed on the spot.

“I… AM!” He declared his left hand slapping his chest. “I am sick… that you are *hic* sick!” He slurred. “You… are the love… of my life. So…sosoSO important. An’ you… An’ you do too much! Ansssnow! You feel sick!” The King slumped back down into his chair as Ainsley turned slowly towards the cook.

“What did you do to him?” She demanded softly.

Fin looked petrified.

“I-I made his majesty lunch, and he had an ale… then he had… more ale. I apologize your grace.” The cook bowed hastily.

“I will discuss this with his highness when he is less… ill. For now, you are tasked with getting his majesty to his chamber without-” The Queen suddenly stopped talking.

Her eyes fixed on the kimchi bowl that was almost completely empty.

“What is that?” She demanded. The scent awakened a powerful craving she hadn’t known possible.

“Kimchi your highness, would you like-”

The Queen hastily picked up the bowl, and ate the remainder.

The look of bliss on her face made Fin momentarily uncomfortable.

“Would you like more your gra-”

“Yes please.”

The Queen had not been able to keep anything in her stomach for the past three days, but somehow, this magical mana from the Gods was not only sitting well, but also satiating her completely!

The cook placed the refreshed bowl in front of her, and then rounded the table to her husband.

“Pardon me your majesty, I am going to carry you to your chamber.”

“Do you know where his chamber is?” The Queen asked after hastily gobbling up another forkful of kimchi.

“I do not, I was hoping your highness may tell me.”

“We are on the fourth floor in the North wing. If you take the east wing servant’s staircase up, it will be the third door on your right.” The Queen resumed eating the kimchi as Fin wound the mostly unconscious royal’s arm around his neck, and stood, effectively hauling the man whom was quite a bit shorter than himself, up to his feet.

“Remember cook, no one can see.” Her sharp tone earned another head bob from Fin whom was struggling to maintain his balance, as the King failed to decided whether or not he could remain upright on his own.

As the duo shuffled out of the room, Fin glanced once over his shoulder, and saw the Queen begin sniffing the pan with the remainder of the bulgogi beef that the King had not yet attacked. She tentatively nibbled on a piece, her eyes widened, and she immediately dove for more.

Fin made a mental note to request more shipments of the Zinferan ingredients, and perhaps some of their special soy bean recipes, as he saw the Queen park herself in the chair on the far right and tuck in to the meal.

As soon as the kitchen door had closed behind him, Fin let out a sigh.

“Your majesty, permission to use magic to get you to your room?” Fin requested while attempting to take several more stumbling steps.

A garbled response was all that the witch managed to get as a response, but decided that it was resounding consent.

He summoned one of the nearby tapestries off the walls, and after creating a small levitating hammock, gently guided the King to lay back. While resistant at first, the King was gently snoring before they even reached the end of the hallway.

Most of the servants were busy stripping the linens off of the guest beds that had recently been abandoned, and cleaning up the messes in the banquet halls. The Queen had shown great foresight in suggesting that they take the eastern servants staircase, as it was dark, and narrow. If someone else were coming down the stairs, they would have to retreat, and Fin would have time to make it seem as though he were attempting to move a recently dusted carpet back into the rooms upstairs as opposed to the most powerful man in the country, who happened to be passed out drunk in a tapestry.

Fortunately, it only happened twice that Fin had to use the excuse. Both times the servants had respectively retreated.

The cook poked his head out on the fourth floor stairwell and let out a breath of relief. The windows that ran along the left side lighting the hallway overlooked the inner courtyard, while the doors to the chambers ran along the right hand side. Candelabras and ornate wooden chests decorated the space between the doors, and as Fin floated the King in his hammock to the third door, he accidentally knocked one of the candelabras to the ground.

“JADE I SWEAR TO THE GODS, IF YOU BROKE SOMETHING ELSE-”

Fin flung himself and the King into his chambers.

The unmistakable sound of Ruby exiting one of the doors further down the corridor, and stomping down the hallway occurring only a moment later.

After laying the King in his bed hastily, the cook waited to hear Ruby leave, when to his horror, he heard her knock instead.

“Your majesty? Is that you in there?” Fin immediately surveyed the room for a hiding spot.

The cook quickly decided the safest place was crouched behind the King’s own bed, on the side that put him between the wall and the bed. He dove for cover just in time as the door creaked open, and Fin held his breath as he heard Ruby give a short gasp, then hastily close the door, clearly not wanting to disturb his majesty’s slumber.

After waiting in the silence for several more heart pounding minutes, Fin stood, and stretched. His back cracked in multiple places, and after a relieved sigh, strolled back over to the exit to listen.

He was certain Ruby was gone.

Upon opening the door however, he found himself staring down at Lady Annika Jenoure.