The Wolf King Demanded a Bride, I Served Him Supper novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: Pass the Peas
Corwin announces Ruby is auditioning over family dinner; she refuses and makes Osric pass a bowl. HOOK: he appoints her his candid companion.
The wolf king's guard was holding our peas at sword point.
He'd mistaken my uncle's serving fork for a threat.
My uncle still wanted the fork back.
"There's mint in those," my uncle told the guard.
"They've suffered enough."
I put the chicken down between the drawn sword and my aunt's best gravy boat.
"Take that outside," I told the guard.
The king looked up from our kitchen chair.
He was taller than anyone who had ever sat there.
His formal coat had caught on the screw under the seat.
He hadn't mentioned it.
"He means no offense," the king said.
"Neither does the fork," my uncle said.
The royal envoy caught our gravy boat before it reached the floor.
The guard's sword had clipped its handle.
He returned it to my aunt and moved his own chair back to give her room.
"We've crowded your kitchen," he said.
"Thank you for having us."
Corwin Hales took a small silver bell from his pocket.
He waited until my aunt had set down the gravy boat.
Then he rang it once.
"Miss Henshaw," he said, "the suitability supper may begin."
My aunt stopped carving.
I looked at her, then at the six elaborate places Corwin had rearranged.
"You said the king needed somewhere to eat."
"His Majesty requires a consort who understands household virtues," Corwin said.
"Your pack has offered you for consideration."
"Miss Bracken, the intended consort, has already accepted," Corwin added.
"Have I read her answer?" Osric asked.
"Her family wrote it for her, Your Majesty," Corwin said.
Across the table, King Osric's attention moved from Corwin to me.
I was angry enough to forget the vegetables.
Three years earlier, he'd called me unfit to address his court.
His signature was still folded inside my bedroom drawer.
Apparently I was fit to feed him.
I took off the sash Corwin had laid over my apron.
The sash said WELCOME in gold thread.
I hung it on the guard's sword hand.
"I'm twenty-eight," I told the king.
"If I want to court somebody, I'll tell him myself."
Corwin reached for the bell.
Deborah put the gravy boat over it.
"It's a meal," she said.
"Ruby helped make it, and she'll eat it while it's hot."
I sat beside Bram.
The king's gaze stayed on the empty chair beside him.
Corwin had put me there, with my back to the kitchen door.
"You may sit where you prefer," Osric said.
"I have," I said.
He accepted that without smiling.
I had expected a warning.
His restraint made me more suspicious.
Corwin gestured to the chicken.
"His Majesty traditionally receives the first portion."
Bram had already taken a leg.
He looked at it with regret, then offered it across the table.
The king declined.
Corwin's expression made Bram inspect his own teeth marks.
"I can turn that side down," Bram offered.
Deborah cut another piece before the envoy could answer.
The guard finally sheathed his sword.
He still held the bowl of peas.
"Those go here," I told him.
Corwin raised his hand.
"Nothing should cross His Majesty's place."
The guard started around the table.
Bram's chair blocked him.
Deborah's chair blocked the other side.
He tried holding the bowl over the king's head.
A pea fell into the king's hair.
Osric picked it out and put it on his plate.
Nobody spoke.
I wanted to laugh, and that annoyed me.
He was managing the whole dreadful thing better than his envoy.
"Pass them to me," I said.
Osric reached for the bowl.
Corwin made a sharp little noise.
The guard withdrew it.
The king's hand remained on the table between us.
It was a large hand, bare of rings except the royal signet.
"Am I permitted to touch the vegetables?" Osric asked his envoy.
Bram coughed into his napkin.
"There are rules for presentation," Corwin said.
"We can eat the rules after supper," Deborah told him.
Osric took the bowl from the guard.
He passed it to me with both hands.
Our fingers touched under the warm china.
He watched my face, and I forgot what I'd planned to say next.
I hated that too.
"Thank you," I managed.
The king glanced at the peas I'd served myself.
"You're welcome."
Deborah put a generous piece of chicken on his plate.
"It's easier once everybody starts talking," she told him.
Osric looked around our table.
For a moment, he seemed unsure who she meant by everybody.
I felt sorry for him before I could stop myself.
Corwin rescued his bell from under the gravy boat.
"The candidate's conduct will be noted," he said.
I put down my fork.
"There isn't a candidate."
The king met my eyes.
"Then I require a candid companion for the remainder of my visit," he said.
"Someone who will tell me when I'm unbearable."
Corwin's bell rang against his own plate.
Osric was still looking at me.
"I'm appointing you."
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