Fin was whisking the meringue with an added vigor as he tried to keep his thoughts regarding Lady Jenoure’s suitors at bay. The pesky images of her sharing her real laugh with some other man, or them bantering together, or showing her vulnerable expression had plagued him all night.

Somehow the more he tried not to think about it, the more the thoughts bombarded him.

Thunder rumbled in the darkened skies outside the kitchen’s garden door. It’s growing fury ratcheting from far above with low booms and sharp cracks, but the witch barely registered the commotion as he continued trying to focus on anything but the Lady.

Just as the cook had worked the ingredients in his bowl into frothy peaks, Sir Taylor strode in alone while shaking his head.

The cook watched the kitchen Knight proceed to remove the white apron Hannah had made for him, and hang it on the garden door handle.

Fin was becoming more and more intrigued as arguably one of the largest Knights in the castle turned and walked over to the redhead’s side, still not having said a word. Sir Taylor proceeded to crouch down and begin rummaging around the smaller table Fin had tucked under his larger cooking table. The new addition held his extra knives and plate ware that he needed while the suitors were visiting.

The cook opened his mouth to ask what in the name of the Green Man’s antlers was he doing, when Sir Harris jogged up the path.

“Hannah! Hannah you don’t need to tell the cook! Seriously I didn’t mean-” Sir Taylor straightened, a new paring knife in his hand.

“Do I look like Hannah to you?” He growled while rounding the table, crossing the room, snatching his apron off of the door handle, and stomping past his startled fellow Knight.

“Depends on the angles.” Sir Harris countered over his shoulder as Sir Taylor strode back down the garden path and out of sight.

When Sir Harris turned back to the kitchen, he found himself staring at the cook who was pointing at him and beckoning him forward. The redhead’s gaze was filled with murderous intent.

“What did you do?” The cook’s tone couldn’t have been any more threatening.

“Nothing! She’s overreacting!”

“What did you do, and this time unless you want to lose some fingers you will tell me.” Picking up his favorite knife and tossing it once in the air, Fin maintained eye contact with the Knight.

Sir Harris instinctively curled his fingers into fists and stepped back.

“Gods- it truly was nothing! Peter hasn’t shown up today, probably having to deal with all the maids telling him to ask Mr. Howard out on a date. So without him there, I took it upon myself to point out to Hannah that she shouldn’t only spend time with Peter if she’s looking for a husband. At this point, she should marry one of us Knights because she isn’t getting any younger.”

The look of startled incredulity on Fin’s face at Sir Harris’ recounting of the event made the Knight feel all the more defensive, so he tried to finish the story.

“She then went berserk and threw her paring knife in my general direction before storming off.”

The silence that followed could’ve rivaled that of a funeral.

Fin put the knife back down, picked up the meringue bowl, and returned his attention back to the teatime snacks. He then said;

“Good luck.”

Sir Harris was in the process of throwing up his arms in exasperation when the woman herself careened into their midst. Tears streamed down her face and her cheeks were red, but her eyes… Fin knew she could kill someone.

“Hannah perhaps before you explain to Sir Harris why he shouldn’t say-” The cook began quietly, hoping to calm the obvious chaos in the young blonde woman.

“Fin, one of the Knights beat up Peter. Someone named Sir Thoel.” Hannah’s fists were curled in rage, and every piece of her trembled for revenge. “They broke two ribs and pummeled his face. Physician Durand is tending to him, I just found out because of one of the maids. Apparently there was a follower of Acker amongst the Knights who goaded his friends into help- what’re you doing?”

The witch’s face had drained of color as he rounded the table and picked up his broom. He gripped its wooden handle firmly, his expression unreadable aside from the cold deadly intent in his eyes.

“I’m going for a walk.” The ferocity in his tone was obvious despite it being flat.

“What are you going to do to him?” Hannah asked, her voice hoarse with raw fury.

“If I’m lucky, something permanent.”

Fin stalked out of the kitchen, down the garden path, past Sir Taylor who had just returned to his fellow Knights, and around the western corner of the castle towards the barracks.

“What is the cook doing?” Sir Andrews asked while staring after Fin with a raised eyebrow.

“Someone named Sir Thoel beat Peter. He’s bedridden.” Hannah had been forced to jog to stay in Fin’s wake, and had paused by the group to explain while she caught her breath, her ire palpable.

The Knights shared only a moment of silent glances before Sir Taylor announced;

“I feel like stretching my legs for a walk.”

Hannah watched as the men stood and moved militaristically, their intention abundantly clear as they quickly marched towards the barracks that Fin was already nearing.

Hannah watched them all go trembling.

She did not like being powerless when her best friend lay injured in his bed over something so ridiculous.

She bolted back to the kitchen. Kraken scampered out of her way panicked as the woman skidded to a halt in front of the cook’s table, mere inches from the chair the poor feline had been resting on. Hannah then spotted the particular tool she had been looking for, and smiled demonically.

*

Fin stood in the middle of the training ring with his hands folded over the hilt of his broom in feigned casualness.

The Captain appeared near the gate to the training ring with a frown. Fin’s eyes moved unnaturally when they shifted to the man. Without any other part of his body acknowledging he saw Antonio, he shouted out.

“One of the Knights, a follower of the religion of Acker, assaulted one of my aides. He is now bedridden. I seek his due on his behalf.” Fin’s voice unnaturally boomed over the men that had gradually come to see what was happening.

The rest of the kitchen Knights had just arrived, and they leapt over the training ring fence and positioned themselves in a flanked formation behind the cook. Each of them wore the aprons Hannah had made, which very clearly divided them from the rest of the Knights that had gathered wearing muddied grungy tunics and trousers, some even wore pieces of their plate armor.

The Captain straightened to his full height. He turned towards the crowd of his men, and they in turn all stepped away to reveal the only one of them that followed the religion.

“Sir Thoel, did you act alone?” The Captain’s growl made many of the Knights shift away from the Knight who had been standing at the back. He was tall with sandy brown hair, and blue eyes that had occasional dark streaks. He was lean, but the five Knights that stood behind him appeared bulkier, though shorter.

Fin stared at the man, his brow lowered.

There was something shifty in Sir Thoel’s eyes that immediately sent warning signals to the witch’s mind.

“We were there Captain.” One of the lackeys voiced up, though he sounded far more hesitant.

“I see.” The Captain strode up to the leader of the men, his blue eye glinting as thunder rumbled above them. “This goes beyond a mere dispute. What you did, Thoel, was assault a civilian. Mr. Ashowan, I will have this man and any of his participants flogged should you deem that the best punishment.”

“No Captain. Mr. Thoel needs to know what I will personally do to anyone if they think they can harm one of my aides.” The obvious slight of neglecting to call the man by his Knightly title made Thoel sneer.

“Fine by me.” The man announced without waiting for the Captain’s input. “Defenders of a sinner should be held just as accountable. Five against one is a little unfair though. I will bring those who were with me when I distributed justice on behalf of our Gods.” Thoel strode forward. The five men behind him looked significantly less confident as they neared the group of kitchen staff.

When Sir Thoel stood three feet away from Fin, his jeer turned into a twisted smile. The sight would’ve been more than a little chilling if the cook didn’t know the man would be lucky to be alive by the time he was through with him.

“You made a mistake thinking the Gods are on your side, cook. You should’ve just let the Captain flog us.”

“What’s wrong sweet buns? Worried we’re going to show you what we do to bad biscuits?” Sir Andrews called out with a smirk of his own.

“Worried we’re going to batter you up?” Sir Harris called out with a small snort.

“You’re all idiots.” Sir Thoel tried to sound derisive, but his cheeks had flushed in anger the moment Sir Andrews had called him ‘sweet buns’.

“Would you look at that? Thoel is scared we’ll leave his meat tender!” Sir Harris called back.

Fin’s intense glower slowly melted into a cold smile as he watched the man facing him grow more and more uncomfortable.

Thoel was now a shade of crimson red.

“You’ll burn in the fiery pits of-”

“Our cook can whip more than just cream, you ass.” Sir Lewis shouted out making the Knights around the ring burst out laughing as they began to catch on to what the kitchen aides were doing.

“Are you going to stand there taunting us, or are we going to fight?” Thoel seethed.

“Oh we’re getting to that.” Sir Taylor rumbled.

Sir Thoel roared, his hands curling into fists as he addressed Fin again.

“Why’d you bring the broom cook? Need a weapon to go against just me?”

“Hardly. I was going to sweep you off your feet and show you a good time.” Fin’s chilling smile as he delivered the statement, followed by his slow wink, made Thoel snap. He launched himself towards the redhead who swiftly stepped to the side, and tripped him.

Thoel stumbled forward into Sir Andrews' fist, the blow landing firmly in the man’s gut.

“What’s wrong Thoel? Can’t take a yolk?” Sir Harris dropped his elbow sharply into the man’s back, knocking him to the ground.

Fin stared at the remaining four men who all hesitated when he squared off with them again. His confidence that his kitchen Knights would handle Thoel was abundantly clear.

The first of Thoel’s men to step towards Fin was one of the bulkier Knights, his dirty blond hair nearly touching his shoulders.

The cook casually tossed his broom at the man. The movement was so sudden that the Knight caught the broom without thinking, which occupied his hands and mind. This meant the roundhouse kick Fin executed crashed into the side of his head knocking him out without any defensive action.

The remaining three Knights in front of Fin paled. The cook then felt two of the kitchen Knights return to his side. Thoel must have been dealt with.

The remaining three lackeys decided to move as one this time.

The man in the centre of the trio with a scar running through his right eyebrow, swung an uppercut at Fin. The cook blocked the attack, and immediately stopped the following jab from the Knight’s other hand. Fin then gave the man a sharp kick with his heel into his groin. The two kitchen Knights at his side had apparently been Sir Lewis and Sir Andrews, and they had handled their own opponents just as efficiently.

The Captain strode towards them.

“Sir Harris you once again have shown the men the importance of mentally distracting one’s opponent. These men don’t usually go down so easily.” The man then turned to Fin whose expression had become unreadable.

“We will need to discuss more serious consequences for Sir Thoel. I will place him in the castle dungeon for tonight while we decide his fate. The King will be consulted. Will tonight after dinner work for you Mr. Ashowan?”

“I was going to keep helping mage Lee find the… the tenth fountain.” The cook’s voice had dropped so low that only the Captain and himself could hear. “But this takes precedence.” Fin added quickly.

“Ah.” The Captain straightened and glanced back towards the barracks. “I happen to know… where that fountain went.”

Fin was about to ask another question when a sudden shriek followed by a bang and distinct crunch, sounded behind them. Both he and the Captain spun around already in combat mode, then froze at the sight before them.

Hannah was standing over a bloody and barely conscious lump that must have been Sir Thoel, while wielding Fin’s iron skillet.

The Knights surrounding the ring were all shouting at the same time, and it took a few moments for both the Captain and cook to figure out what exactly had happened.

Apparently the kitchen Knights had been turned around trying to listen to the Captain, when Thoel had pulled a knife from his boot behind their backs.

Little had Thoel known, one hundred and fifteen pounds of blonde rage was watching with a skillet.

Both the Captain and Fin stalked over and regarded Thoel’s new injury…

Injuries.

“Broken jaw and… a lot of teeth lost.” The Captain stood and accepted a tea towel Sir Taylor offered to wipe his hands. The fabric stained with Thoel’s blood was then dropped atop the man.

“She could’ve killed him, he got off lightly.” Fin observed gravely as he reached over and grabbed the pan from Hannah without sparing her a glance.

The kitchen maid wasn’t finished apparently, as she then snatched the pan back from Fin, and turned back to the crowd of Knights that were watching, completely enthralled with the events.

“If any one of you tries this SHIT again with Peter, or harass any of my friends that are maids, there is nowhere in this Godsforsaken kingdom you will be safe from me. I know where you all sleep, I cook all your food, I know who washes your clothes and bedding, and if I have to chase you into a six-foot deep hole, I will. GOT IT?” The furious roar from Hannah made a few Knights go pale, and if any of them thought that they should poke fun at her, the kitchen Knights that all stood behind her glaring shut them up.

She whirled around then and brandished the pan in Sir Harris’ face. Fin stepped forward to intervene when she spoke.

“YOU, I will marry when I am damn well ready and to whomever I damn well want to! So you can-”

The expletives that left her mouth made Sir Harris’ jaw drop.

Some of the Knights even learned a few new curse words, and others merely developed a healthy respect for the little maid.

Fin took back his pan once he had recovered from his own shock. Hannah turned around wrathfully, exited the ring, and walked through the crowd that parted to make a clear path for her.

When she had cleared each layer of Knights, applause cheers and whistles erupted behind her.

She turned back around, her eyes flashing but they continued their loud roars of approval all the same. With a final huff she resumed her trek back to the kitchen.

*

“Where are you running to?” Lord Piereva snapped as he winced against the pain in his gut that had been churning since late the previous night.

Three of his men were whispering with some of the Daxarian guards and they all began rushing from his quarters towards the door.

“There’s a huge brawl going on down in the training ring!” The Lord’s squire explained, the desire to witness a good fight bright in his dark eyes.

“I see. I’ve been meaning to go down to the ring to see if the Daxarian’s measure up to our standards in Troivack.” The Earl stood, and immediately twitched while hunching his shoulders.

“All of you leave.” He barked without further explanation. His men were used to such sudden shifts in their master’s mood, and knew that it was best to obey without further question.

The Daxarian Knights had the audacity to shoot him dubious expressions and exit his chamber at a far more leisurely pace.

Lord Piereva made a mental note to teach them manners.

…Later.

He dove for the chamber pot and dropped his trousers.

*

“I’m sorry to hear your brother is unwell.” Lord Jiho Ryu bowed slightly while offering his concerns to Lady Jenoure while she ate. She nodded with an air of disinterest.

“Yes, not sure what it was that could have made him so violently ill. Lord Miller ate and drank everything he did- it truly is a mystery.”

When she was certain no one was looking, Annika risked the tiniest of smiles as she began to suspect who might have been responsible for her brother becoming indisposed.

Little did she know, the Zinferan on her right was having a very similar thought- only he didn’t know why his friend the cook would do something like that to the Earl.

… At least not yet.