I Became the Bride of a Grand Duke Who's Obsessed with His First Love novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Tea in the Pantry

Mina hides in the pantry, the Empress finds her there with lemon cake and a gift tea, and Mina pours her cup into a fern; by dinner the fern has turned black.

On Tuesday morning I was in the pantry by seven.

The book said the Empress sat the Grand Duchess in the garden, in the sun, and poured her a cup.

The book was very clear that the Grand Duchess drank it.

So there was no Grand Duchess in the garden.

There was only the garden, one empty chair, and Bertram, who had been told I had a headache.

"Her Majesty arrives at ten," he said. "She will ask for you."

"Tell her I'm unwell."

"I told the cook she was unwell. The cook told the scullery. The scullery has told the stable boys." He looked over the apple barrels. "I believe she is now unwell in the stable boys' opinion."

"Thank you, Bertram."

At a quarter past ten, a carriage with a pale blue crest came up the drive.

At twenty past, the pantry door opened.

The Empress came in with a cake box in her arms and her hair tied back in a plain ribbon.

"There you are!" said Odile. "Bertram said you were poorly, so I came to find the kitchen. That is where one goes when one is poorly."

She had walked past the garden, the drawing room and the great hall to get to me.

"Your Majesty should not have troubled," I said, and stood.

"Nonsense. Sit. I've brought lemon cake and I will not carry it back to the palace." She put the box down on a flour barrel. She smiled at Greta. "Greta, I hear your mother's soup is famous in your village. I should like the recipe."

Greta, who had been in my service for four days, dropped her bread.

The Empress took a seat on an overturned crate.

She was the most gracious woman I had ever met.

It was a problem.

Behind her came a thin woman in grey, her lady-in-waiting, holding a silver tray with a teapot, three cups and a small tin.

"A gift," said the Empress, tapping the tin. "My own blend, for your health. The palace doctors swear by it. I thought the Duchess might need it, with Rothgar Hall so damp."

The lady-in-waiting began to pour.

There were three cups, though only two of us were in the room.

Someone had known the Duke would come.

I did not take the cup.

"Your Majesty is too good," I said. "I only wish I could. I have a stomach complaint. A doctor has told me to take nothing hot."

"Oh, my dear." Her face softened. "Then just hold it. The warmth is good for the hands."

She put the cup in my gloved palm and folded my fingers over it.

I held it.

The lady-in-waiting stood by with the pot. She was looking at the cup, not at me.

The door opened again, and the Duke came in, still in his riding coat, with mud on his boots.

I watched him see her.

His whole face changed. His shoulders came down, and he said, "Odile," very softly.

"Ansel," said the Empress, rising, with her hands out. "Look at you. You're thinner."

"Your Majesty."

"Don't. Not in your own pantry."

Bertram appeared at my elbow with his ledger, and I did not ask why.

"Present in the room, Your Grace," he murmured. "The Terms cover her name at table, not her face."

"Noted."

I felt something then, small and flat, under my ribs.

I took out my pencil and wrote it down under Reasons I Am Not Jealous.

There were three. The first was that the book said so. The second was the Terms. The third was that she was lovely, which did not help.

"You have missed one, Your Grace," Bertram murmured. "She has also brought cake."

"The cake is not a reason."

"It is lemon."

The Empress took Ansel's arm. They went to the window together to talk about the roses, and the lady-in-waiting moved the tray to the shelf beside me.

There was a potted fern on that shelf, in a cracked blue pot, that Greta had been saving from the cold.

The lady-in-waiting said, "Your Grace should drink while it's warm."

"I will," I said. "In a moment."

She turned to answer the Empress, who had called her over.

I tipped the whole cup into the fern.

I put the cup to my mouth, and held it there, and put it down.

"Lovely," I said.

The Empress glanced across the room and beamed at me.

They stayed an hour. She ate two slices of cake. She kissed Greta's cheek. She told me twice that I was safe in this house, and the second time she held my gloved left hand again and looked at it for a long moment.

I took the list from my sleeve when the carriage was gone.

Scene three: Tea in the Garden.

I crossed it out.

Bertram, passing the pantry, gave a very small nod.

By dinner, Greta came into the dining room with her bread forgotten in her hand.

"Your Grace," she said. "The fern."

I went to look.

The leaves had gone black. The whole plant lay folded over the rim of the cracked blue pot.

It had been alive at noon.

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