Chapter 7 Uncooked Chicken

ELYSIA'S POV

His name was Vexhalis. That was the very first thought that anchored itself in my mind the moment the doors closed behind him. Vexhalis. Back in Murea, I had only ever heard fearful whispers and rumors of King Severain—the Vampire King. No one in the human realm ever knew his actual name. But now, I did.

The second thought that crept into my mind was the way he had looked at my neck before he left. I had noticed it immediately because my attention had been rooted onto him, watching every small expression he made. I had seen the moment his pureblood eyes dropped low. For a fleeting second, any other human woman might have thought his gaze was lingering on her breasts, but his eyes hadn't dropped that far, and I knew that he was not a lewd king. He was a predator, pure and simple. I wondered with a spike of dread why he had been staring so intently at my neck.

'Is that where he is planning on drinking from me?' I thought, a cold sweat breaking out on my arms. Subconsciously, my hand went up to my neck, my fingers gently rubbing the spot where his eyes had lingered, as if already feeling the phantom prick of his fangs.

The third thought that plagued me was his parting words and that persistent nickname. 'Why did he keep calling me Little Keeper? And what exactly did he mean by wanting to see me again the next morning? Did he mean he didn't want me dead?'

Up until a few minutes ago, he had been unceasingly threatening to feed my dragon to his wolves and have his guards execution me on the spot. What had changed within his calculating mind to make him talk about tomorrow?

'Strange, strange vampire,' I mused, shaking my head slightly to clear the fog of my thoughts.

It was only then, as the silence of the room settled in, that I remembered I was still standing in the middle of the dining hall. The maids were now bustling about, quietly and efficiently packing up the massive plates of leftover food. For a second, I wondered if I should step forward and help them clear the table, but I caught myself. Instead, I simply stood by my chair, offered the remaining servants a slight smile, and spoke up.

"Thank you for the meal," I commented softly. "It was absolutely delicious."

The maids froze in their tracks at once. They looked up at me, their eyes widening in disbelief astonishment, as though no one in the history of the West Wing had ever bothered to tell them that the food they prepared was delicious. I offered them one more polite nod before turning on my heel and leaving the dining room.

The two guards stationed inside the room immediately stepped forward, pulling the double doors open for me in the exact same manner they had done for the King. I stepped out into the grand hallway and came face-to-face with a small, elderly man. He possessed neatly combed, greying brown hair, a pristine uniform, and a genuinely warm smile that felt out of place in this cold castle.

"Hello, dear," the old man said, bowing his head respectfully. "I am Martin, the butler. I have been ordered by His Majesty to show you around the West Wing, if you don't mind."

I blinked, slightly taken aback by his kindness. "I am Elysia," I responded, smoothing down the skirts of my new gown. "I don't mind being shown around at all, Martin. But before we do that, is there any way I can visit the kitchen?"

The butler’s bushy brows rose an inch in surprise. I wasn't entirely sure what kind of thoughts were running through his head, but he didn't question me. Instead, he gave a polite nod and gestured down the hall. "Right this way, Miss Elysia."

He led the way, and I followed closely behind his brisk steps. We passed through one stone passageway that led into another, and I finally had the chance to look around without running for my life. The walls were adorned with massive, breathtaking tapestries depicting ancient battles and starry nights. Thick, beautifully cultivated green creepers wound their way up the stone pillars, and grand, dark-framed oil paintings lined the corridors. It was undeniably beautiful, a pronounced contrast to the simple structures of Murea.

Eventually, we reached the entrance to the kitchen, and the moment I stepped across the threshold, my jaw nearly dropped. It was the biggest kitchen I had ever seen in my entire life—easily three times larger than the entire little cottage I had shared with Mama and Papa. The air was thick with the scent of roasting spices, fresh herbs, and baking dough. The entire room was bustling with frenzied work, servants scurrying in every direction with silver trays and bronze pots.

Noticing my speechlessness, Martin leaned in slightly. "The kitchen is currently in full preparation for lunch, dear."

Instinctively, my stomach tightened, and I asked, "When is lunch usually served?" It wasn't that I was planning to eat with the Vampire King again, but a human girl could only hope.

"Precisely at midday, Miss," Martin replied.

I gave a small nod, then stepped further into the chaotic warmth of the kitchen. I scanned the room, looking for the strictest, most formidable-looking woman in the space, assuming she would be the head cook running the show. It didn't take long to spot her. She stood near the center island, barking orders at three younger maids while aggressively chopping root vegetables.

I walked up to her, took a breath, and offered a polite, respectful curtsy. "Hello. I am Elysia."

The woman stopped her chopping completely. She turned her keen gaze upon me, her eyes tracking my human features with a strange look. "And who exactly are you supposed to be, girl?" she asked, her voice raspy and stern.

I hesitated for a second, the weight of my situation pressing on my tongue. Then, remembering the King’s clear instructions, I straightened my posture. "I am a guest of the King."

The head cook looked me up and down, taking in the fine gown that clearly belonged to the castle's stores, before letting out a mocking snort. "The King wouldn't keep a common human guest wandering around his private wing, much less a human woman."

I felt a flush of embarrassment hit my cheeks, stunned a little by her blunt hostility. I took a slow breath, pushing the discomfort aside, and focused on why I had come here in the first place. I sighed. "Can I please get a chicken? An uncooked chicken, but... not a live one, if possible."

The whole kitchen fell deathly silent. Every single maid and cook in the surrounding stopped what they were doing and stared at me in bewilderment, as if I had just asked for the King's crown on a silver platter.

The strict woman’s face instantly morphed into a frown. She set her chopping knife down on the block. "You're the human who brought that beast into the Vampire lands." She noted, her voice dropping into a pointed accusation.

It wasn't a question.

I bit my bottom lip, my gaze dropping to the floor to hide the hurt and anger in my eyes. I detested hearing Azira being called a beast, or anything other than her proper name and what she truly was.

"Her name is Azira," I whispered fiercely, looking back up to meet the woman's gaze.

The head cook rolled her eyes dramatically. "Whatever her name is, there is no food to feed a giant reptile in the Vampire Kingdom. We do not waste our provisions."

"Please," I tried to plead, stepping closer to the counter. "She needs it."

"If you bring a written permission from the King himself, only then will I give you the food," the woman barked, turning her back to me to resume her chopping.

I stood there, completely torn. I needed to feed Azira if I was going to take her out tonight to retrieve her egg. Azira had flown a great distance yesternight, and she needed her strength for the return journey. But I had no idea if the King—strange and unpredictable as he was—would be pleased if I bothered him just to ask for a single raw chicken. I didn't even know if he was currently inside the castle or out ruling his territory.

Before I could gather the courage to argue my case again, Martin stepped forward from the doorway. He walked up to the counter, his warm demeanor hardening into something authoritative as he looked at the head cook.

"Maria," Martins called. "Give the girl the chicken if there is one available."

The head cook, Maria, let out an irritated hiss. She rolled her eyes, but she didn't dare argue with the butler. She gave a nod to one of the younger maidservants standing beside her. The young girl immediately scurried off.

Standing beside him, I realized then that Martin possibly held a position higher than Maria the head cook, in the castle hierarchy. I turned toward him, letting out a breath of pure relief, and gave him an intensely appreciative smile and a grateful nod. He simply returned it with a kind, reassuring wink.

A moment later, the young maid scurried back into the kitchen, holding a large, freshly skinned-off chicken that already had its head removed. She handed it over to me. I thanked the young maid, and then turned to thank Maria as well, though the head cook completely ignored me, refusing to spare me a single word or look.

With the raw chicken locked in my grasp, I turned back to Martin. "Can you take me outside now?"

"Of course, Miss Elysia. Follow me," he said, turning back toward the corridors.

With Martin giving clear directions, he led me back through the winding hallways toward the main entrance double doors of the castle. As we walked, I looked around the massive entrance hall. Last night, I hadn't been able to take in the vastness of the hallway because of the panic and exhaustion gripping my soul. Now, in the bright morning light, the grand entrance hall looked even larger, wider, and immeasurably more beautiful. The floors gleamed like polished ice, and the towering arched ceilings made me feel like an insignificant speck.

Martin ordered the guards to push the front doors open, and the chilly air of Valkeryth rushed over my face. The compound outside looked vast beyond measure in the daylight, stretching out toward the mountain ridges with breathtaking grandeur.

Holding the chicken tightly against my side, I began to walk down the grand exterior stairs. I could feel the burning gazes of a few passing maids who were tending to the courtyard; they openly stared at me, their heads close together as they whispered about the human girl carrying raw meat through the King's courtyard.

I ignored them, pushing my shoulders back and boldly walking down to the last stair, my eyes scanning the courtyard ahead. I noticed that the guardsmen stationed at the base of the steps were completely different from the men who had pointed their arrows at me last night. These vampires looked larger, their dark armor gleaming under the sky as their red eyes locked onto me, following my every move.