Lukas and Victoria sat at the long trestle where the kitchen skivvies ate their meals. The servants cleared the low vault and brought in more light, candles of every length and girth in clay holders. They watched from the doorways at either end, a shabby crowd grinning and bobbing as though it was a holy day or a high day, and they were the mummers to entertain them.
Ester hove into view and crested through the skivvies like a barge through water. She brought fresh bread, honey in a bowl, golden butter, and silver knives.
“This is the place to eat,” Lukas said. He kept his eyes on Victoria. She didn’t seem to mind.
“Bread hot from the oven.” It steamed when he tore it open. Heaven must smell like fresh bread.
“I knew I missed you for a reason, Ester.” he called the words over his shoul
