The serving girl returned a short time later, pushing a cart that groaned under the weight of dishes piled upon it. A small line of workers followed her into the room carrying extra plates and additional domed serving platters.
Talia couldn't help but clasp her hands together excitedly as the girl cleared the hand washing bowls from the table and began to lay out and uncover dish after dish. There was the famed chicken and potato soup in a giant silver tureen, round loaves of honeyed sweet bread, crispy fried venison, lemon tarts, cabbage stuffed with something that smelled spicy and delicious, tiny pink and yellow cakes, grilled heathnuts wrapped in bacon and many other dishes that she couldn't identify by sight but smelled mouth-wateringly good. Best of all, was something that looked like a custard that had been caramelized on top and then decorated with fresh orange slices.
"It's a feast!" she said, and for a moment, she almost gave in to the childish desire to screech in happiness and clap her hands. There was once a time when there was nothing in the world she wanted more than to be invited to a feast. In her entire 18 years of life, she had never seen so much food!
She glanced up at Prince Mikhail who had taken the seat beside her and grinned at him. He pressed his lips together and looked quickly away.
His reactions were always so odd! She had been angry with him for pretending to believe her about Ilya's betrayal and then not telling her the truth even after several days had passed. It was hard to believe that something so important could have slipped his mind. When she demanded to know why she had been kidnapped, and who had ordered it, his response that he had 'many enemies' and that 'there was no way to know', didn't seem very honest. She suspected that the truth was that he didn't think she was important enough to bother explaining anything to.
And yet... how was it that he seemed to remember every word she ever spoke to him? From the orange jelly candies, to the fake name she'd long ago given him, to the off-hand mention that she had always wanted to attend a feast, he forgot nothing. He even remembered how much she disliked fish!
She did not want to be touched by his effort. She did not want to trick herself once again into imagining there was some sort of bond between them. He wanted only to use her in whatever way he could. Perhaps he had a small amount of respect or fondness for her due to the help she had given him as a child, but whatever his reasons were for keeping her at his side, they could only be selfish ones. He felt lust for her, but no genuine affection and certainly not love.
"The lady of the tavern sends a gift for our Prince, and wishes to convey her gratitude for his patronage," the girl announced and motioned to another servant hovering just behind Prince Mikhail who stepped forward and presented a bottle of wine with a low bow. A third servant quickly placed stemmed glassware in front of the three travelers.
"Vezdan wine?" Talia whispered more to herself than her companions.
She had heard that there were once wineries in the Madrost region before the war, but the vineyards had been wiped out even before the starving times. She had never had wine before-- Vezdan or otherwise.
"Yes, my lady. Vezdan wines were once known for their sweetness and light, fizzy body. They were prized throughout the Empire as after dinner or dessert-style wines. We have several cases in our cellar that were bottled before the war," the servant explained.
Prince Mikhail nodded slightly and the girl uncorked the bottle and began pouring the light pink bubbling drink into the glasses.
"Not for me, if you please," Ilya instructed, placing a hand over his glass. "Sweet wines have never agreed with me, but I won't refuse a nice strong ale.
"Of course," the girl nodded. "My lady, if you like..." For the first time, the girl looked directly at Talia and gasped. "By Alulia!" she whispered. "My lady, your eyes... you're a lady of House Eosin, aren't you? Oh, may the sea swallow me for my blindness, it's Princess Talia! You must be the Princess!" she realized, her voice rising in pitch.
The girl quickly knelt down beside her as the other servants copied her actions. When she looked up again at Talia, it was through eyes that shimmered with tears.
"Oh, no... you must know that Vezdans don't bow before House Eosin. Rulers are the servants of their people. Stand up, please," Talia asked, her face burning in embarrassment.
She had not expected to be recognized, even in such a place, and the realization of how she must have looked-- dirty from the road, pale, raw, peeling fingers clasped childishly in delight, and smiling at one of the greatest villains Vezda had ever known-- she was surely a disappointment.
"My Princess, we know the customs of Vezda, but you are sister to Queen Ora the Good, and we have all heard the story of how you ended the war by offering your own life. We are so honored. We are so very honored," the girl insisted.
Talia swallowed uncomfortably and tried to think of something fitting to say.
"Then go out and leave us to dine in peace, if you would," Prince Mikhail ordered.
Talia managed an apologetic smile as the girl stood and bowed again before she and the other servants backed out of the room.
Left alone with Ilya and Prince Mikhail, and noticing Ilya's smirk, Talia cleared her throat and reached for the wine glass. She took a swallow and lit up at once.
"It's delicious!" she laughed. "So sweet and all of the bubbles make it seem as if it's exploding in your mouth. She took a larger sip, and jumped when she felt the Prince's hand wrap around her wrist. He slowly forced her to lower the glass.
"It's a good deal stronger than it tastes. Eat something first," he ordered.
Without waiting for her to follow his command, he reached for the soup and ladled a portion into her bowl.
"Start with that," he growled.
Ilya laughed under his breath and gave the Prince a pointed look. She felt as though the two men were communicating something silently and it made her feel rather annoyed. She picked up her spoon and dipped it into her bowl.
"How is your hand, Ilya?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she took a bite.
"Oh, it should heal well enough. Don't let it trouble you, Princess," he said, waving his bandaged hand. "I don't blame you the least bit, of course. It isn't your fault. You thought I was a traitor. No, I certainly don't blame you..."
The way Ilya put the emphasis on the last word spoken made it seem as though he certainly blamed someone else. Talia glanced quickly up at Prince Mikhail, and then smirked at Ilya, catching his meaning.
"Still, I feel a little bad. If only... if only there were some way I could have known. If only there was someone who could have told me that you weren't responsible for what happened to me," she sighed as though she were truly regretful.
"Yes... if only," Ilya agreed grinning wickedly.
"The soup is very good, by the way, well-seasoned! You should try it," Talia informed him and took another bite. "It pairs well with the wine." She reached for her glass and took another large sip, smiling at the sensation of bubbles passing over her tongue.
Prince Mikhail speared a piece of fried venison and set it on her plate, before filling his own plate. Talia took another sip from her glass, before cutting a piece of the meat and trying it as well.
"I had no idea that Vezdan food was so... so good," she admitted. The thought made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.
"Indeed," Ilya agreed, helping himself to one of the lemon tarts. She was pleased to see that the silly table manners of the Empire didn't seem to apply in this place.
Talia made to pick up her glass again and noticed that there were only a few drops left.
"Another glass, Princess?" Ilya asked snatching up the bottle.
"Oh yes, please," she agreed holding out the glass flute for him to refill.
"Ilya!" Prince Mikhail snapped.
"What is it, my Prince?" Ilya asked as though he didn't know while filling Talia's cup all the way to the brim.
"It is a stronger drink than you might think, Princess," Prince Mikhail warned.
Talia made a face which caused Ilya to chuckle and then took a large, rebellious gulp from the glass.
"He's always doing that, isn't he?" Talia asked the aide. "Always scowling and disapproving of anything even remotely pleasant."
"Not always," Ilya disagreed and his smirk suggested he knew something she didn't.
"Well... most of the time anyhow," she amended.
"He is certainly more pleasant to you than he is to me," Ilya shrugged.
"You shouldn't put up with it then. I don't," she advised.
Ilya laughed out loud at this and eyed Prince Mikhail speculatively.
"I think you're the only one who can get away with that," Ilya disagreed. "He's quite fond of you in case you haven't noticed."
"Oh yes, 'quite fond' is that what he is? A dog in heat more like," Talia scoffed.
Ilya coughed and choked on the food he'd just put in his mouth. With wide eyes, he pounded his chest a few times, and then covered his mouth with a napkin. She could clearly see him smiling behind it.
"Watch your words, Princess," Mikhail said in a low voice.
"He's threatening me now, that's how fond of me he is," Talia continued, taking another bite of food and smiling at the flavors as she chewed. She picked up the glass again, ignoring Prince Mikhail's watchful glare, and drained it of wine.