Chapter 192: Night of the Ball
Rose stared at the door with a slightly confused, slightly worried expression. She was terrified of the Queen; she knew the woman would go to any lengths to get her out of here, including but not limited to dangerous means.
She wasn’t surprised the Queen had already planted a spy—she had already thought of a few maids she had considered as the spy or spies. Welma had topped the list, of course, but she hadn’t expected her to act this way when confronted.
So far, other than her impertinent way of speaking, she had not antagonized Rose or gone out of her way to make sure Rose was punished. However, Rose didn’t think it was because she was nicer than Martha; she thought it was because there was a lack of opportunity for Welma to do so, as Rose never paid her any mind.
She turned her attention to the table. The tray that Welma brought was indeed huge. It covered more than half the table, and the contents filled every corner of the tray. The smell that wafted from that section was enough to make her forget about her troubles—though briefly.
She was quick to take a seat, her mouth already watering. The cook was certainly the best, and as much as Rose knew she wouldn’t miss the castle when she left, she knew she would miss the meals.
The main dish was roast chicken, seasoned with thyme and garlic, its skin golden and crisp. A handful of greens, lightly dressed with vinegar, littered around the chicken. Rose could not figure out how she was expected to eat this much chicken, but at least this time it wasn’t a full chicken.
A wedge of mild cheese and a few slices of dried pear sat on the tray. There was also a bowl of warm barley soup filled with carrots. The different aromas from the different dishes were mixed together. It filled the room and Rose’s nose.
Rose stared hard, wondering where to start, but it didn’t take her long to decide. Picking the spoon, she dove right into the soup. Her satisfied noises filled the room. Rose shut her eyes as she savored the meal.
She ate as much as she could. She ate the soup and dessert, leaving nothing. Only a little of the chicken remained, and at this point, Rose was filled to the brim, on the verge of bursting.
She sat still for some time. She was still in this position when a servant came to carry her dishes. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Welma. The maid always made it a point to come to her room, and now it was almost like she was keeping a distance.