Beatrix expertly stirred the pot and tasted the concoction. "Hmm, this needs more spice."
Medea was watching from nearby, readying herself to help serve when the time came. She nudged the basket of spice bottles by her feet. "Which one would you like?"
"Uhm ... " Beatrix hemmed and hawed while Medea stared.
"I think this one would go well with rabbit stew." Medea held up a glass bottle with green and brown flakes inside. "I've found it to work well in the past."
Medea was watching from nearby, readying herself to help serve when the time came. She nudged the basket of spice bottles by her feet. "Which one would you like?"
"Uhm ... " Beatrix hemmed and hawed while Medea stared.
"I think this one would go well with rabbit stew." Medea held up a glass bottle with green and brown flakes inside. "I've found it to work well in the past."
Beatrix scoffed. "This is no ordinary stew. It's one of my own making. It will have my unique flavourings."
Medea giggled softly at Beatrix's words. Having spent too much time around rough men had led her mind astray somewhat, and this was not helped by Beatrix's haughty words about her own creations. Quickly Medea dashed the thoughts from her mind, them not being fit for her properly lady mind. "Then what do you recommend?" she asked once she got herself under control.
Beatrix had already picked up a bottle while Medea had been lost in her own thoughts. This she tipped over the pot, meaning to add a few dashes to flavour. Instead a steady stream slipped out of the mouth of the bottle instead of the quick bursts Beatrix wanted.
Wide eyed, Beatrix stared down at the stew which was rapidly turned from the creamy-brown to a muddy yellow. A glance at the bottle showed that she had added ground Mustard. Medea peeked her head around Beatrix to look at the changing stew colour.
"Was that supposed to-"
"Yes, of course!" Beatrix snapped quickly. "I cannot work with you hovering like a little fly though."
Wide eyed, Beatrix stared down at the stew which was rapidly turned from the creamy-brown to a muddy yellow. A glance at the bottle showed that she had added ground Mustard. Medea peeked her head around Beatrix to look at the changing stew colour.
"Was that supposed to-"
"Yes, of course!" Beatrix snapped quickly. "I cannot work with you hovering like a little fly though."
Medea retreated back into her pose on the bench. She tucked one ankle behind the other and smoothed her skirts. It was part of her way to combat the roughness of the camp. If she acted like a lady, she would think like one. She never took her aspirations to the same level of Beatrix, but Medea had her own dreams too. She decided it would be lady-like not to point out Beatrix's appalling mistake, and so kept silent.
Beatrix continued to stir the pot hurriedly, hoping the mud like colour would disappear. It had not disappeared by the time that Lilliane came by with the eating bowls.
To Beatrix's surprise, Lilliane did not falter when she saw the stew. She ladled it neatly into the bowls and handed some off to the watching Medea. The call for dinner rang out through the fading light. The others came in a ravenous wave that Beatrix began to fear. She sat with own bowl by the roaring fire. A spoon held a mouthful of liquid that Beatrix could not press into her mouth. Instead she watched the others joke and wheedle soft laughs out of each other, bowls in hand.
Beatrix continued to stir the pot hurriedly, hoping the mud like colour would disappear. It had not disappeared by the time that Lilliane came by with the eating bowls.
To Beatrix's surprise, Lilliane did not falter when she saw the stew. She ladled it neatly into the bowls and handed some off to the watching Medea. The call for dinner rang out through the fading light. The others came in a ravenous wave that Beatrix began to fear. She sat with own bowl by the roaring fire. A spoon held a mouthful of liquid that Beatrix could not press into her mouth. Instead she watched the others joke and wheedle soft laughs out of each other, bowls in hand.
Spoons of stew made it's way into mouths. A breath caught in Beatrix's throat as Joseph's mouth clamped down around the spoon. There was a split second of heistation before a swallow, then his spoon dove back into his bowl for more. A slump of relief curved Beatrix's straight back and she sipped at her own cooled spoon. The taste was strong, enough to widen her eyes, but she watched as others gulped down the liquid. Obviously she herself could not enjoy her own concoction as well as the others, but at least they saw her talents and ate it well. She forced herself through the bowl, refusing to allow a drop remain.
While Beatrix scraped the last of the liquid from her bowl, her eyes were not on Dane who was late to dinner. He was given a bowl and sat to eat, only to cough wildly when the first sip touched his lips. Jeph thumped him on the back and rested a hand on his shoulder as he caught his breath. A firm grip on his shoulder caused Dane to glance at the other man. Jeph's eyes stared intensely into Dane's own brown orbs. When Dane criunkled his forehead in confusion, a tip of Jephs head towards Beatrix sent a silent message. When Dane glanced around, the others were staring intensely at him, willing their thoughts to be understood.
"Lovely stew," Dane said. Beatrix looked up from her own bowl, having missed the secret communications and smiled widely.
"Thank you," she said, pleased at her success.
She never found out.
While Beatrix scraped the last of the liquid from her bowl, her eyes were not on Dane who was late to dinner. He was given a bowl and sat to eat, only to cough wildly when the first sip touched his lips. Jeph thumped him on the back and rested a hand on his shoulder as he caught his breath. A firm grip on his shoulder caused Dane to glance at the other man. Jeph's eyes stared intensely into Dane's own brown orbs. When Dane criunkled his forehead in confusion, a tip of Jephs head towards Beatrix sent a silent message. When Dane glanced around, the others were staring intensely at him, willing their thoughts to be understood.
"Lovely stew," Dane said. Beatrix looked up from her own bowl, having missed the secret communications and smiled widely.
"Thank you," she said, pleased at her success.
She never found out.