“I’m afraid it was, Cook.” The shudder that ran over me was not feigned. I saw again the lines of blood trickled over a fat little fist. I blinked, but the image stayed. “I’ve got to hurry off now. I’m to wait on King Shrewd this day.”
“Are ye? Well, there’s a spot of good news, then. You just run these up with you, then.” She trundled over to a cupboard to take out a covered tray of small pastries baked rich with soft cheese and currants. She set a pot of hot tea beside them and a clean cup. She arranged the pastries lovingly. “And you see he eats them, Fitz. His favorites, they are, and if he tastes one, I know he’ll eat them all. And do him good, too.”
Mine, too.
I jumped as if poked with a pin. I tried to cover, it with a cough, as if I had suddenly choked, but Cook still looked at me oddly. I coughed again, and nodded at her. “I’m sure he’ll love them,” I said in a choked voice, and bore the tray out of the kitchen. Several sets of eyes followed me. I smiled pleasantly and tried to pretend I didn’t know why.
I didn’t realize you were still with me, I told Verity. A tiny part of me was reviewing every thought I’d had since I left his tower, and was thanking Eda that I had not decided to seek out Nighteyes first, even as I pushed such thoughts aside, unsure how private they were.
I know. I didn’t intend to be spying on you. Only to show you that when you do not focus so tightly on this, you are able to do it.
I groped after his Skilling. More your effort than mine, I pointed out as I climbed the stairs.