Crooked Crown by Angela Kulig

Author:Angela Kulig [Kulig, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Angela Kulig

Chapter Fourteen

Bowen had magicked us into another food bunker. That was my first thought as we both stumbled. But no—this was a familiar place.

The food pantry was a large, dimly lit room located in the gentler part of the castle's basement system. The walls were made of stone, and the floor was pale stone without so much as a speck of dirt across it. The air was cool and damp, and the musty smell of root vegetables clung to it all.

The room was filled with rows of wooden shelves that were stacked with all manner of food. There were large baskets filled with apples, pears, and other types of fruit that I'd plucked from as a child on the run. There were also barrels filled with pickled vegetables, such as cucumbers and onions, and jars filled with preserves, like jams and jellies.

In the corner of the space, there were several large clay jars filled with grains, like barley, oats, and wheat. These were used to make bread, porridge, and other staple foods. Along the walls, there were also hooks where large sides of smoked meats and salted fish hung.

I knew I must be starving. Too much magic and too much trauma, but I didn't feel it then.

The food pantry was always bustling with activity. Servants, who were responsible for maintaining the pantry, could be seen filling empty jars with preserves and grains and restocking the shelves with fresh produce. The pantry was also the place where the castle's cooks and bakers came to gather ingredients for their meals. No one was there. I strained my ears for footsteps, for the sound of servants rushing about. I heard nothing but the growing terror pounding away in my own ears.

The pantry was an important part of the castle's food supply, as it ensured that the inhabitants would have enough food to survive during times of scarcity or siege. The pantry was always kept well-stocked, and the food was carefully rationed to make sure that it would last as long as possible. I wanted to feel relieved it was safe, that it hadn't vanished in a cloud of smoke and ash like the food in the field had—I tried to hold tight to that idea—but where were the people?

Then I heard it. Someone was crying softly, other voices murmuring low in response.

Bowen walked from the pantry, yet another apple in his hand. Sweat lined the area below his hairline, and he looked a little pale. That didn't keep him from walking with his back ramrod straight as he stalked into a packed kitchen like it was yet another battlefield.

The kitchen staff huddled together in the dimly lit room, their voices hushed as they discussed the recent events that had shaken the kingdom to its core. The death of their beloved king had come as a shock to all of them, and they couldn't help but wonder what had really happened.

"He'd seen fine just the day before," one brass cook said brazenly. "He requested his favorite rack of lamb personally.

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