“ A toast to the new alliance!”

Clanking of glasses with small chatter erupts in the room. A soft melody wisps throughout the dining hall; soldiers and servants at their post.

Today, I’m assigned with the wine. However, the sweet, savory aroma of the roasted hog with the potatoes makes my job….difficult.

“ Servant, more wine” a satin clothed hand raises to my right, with more soon following.

I glide to each and every guest, pouring the red liquid into every cup. Not too much to be wasted, but enough to feel the effects of the drink.

More hands multiply with each passing second. For a passing thought, I think I am free from the gnawing feeling. As the night progresses, it’ll be too busy to think of the-

crash!

Food.

Beautiful, savory food.

Wasted on the floor.

“ Servant, clean this up at once!” A feminine voice chirps. She watches me smugly as I get to my knees, cleaning up the shards of ceramic mixed with the delicacy.

Being this close to the food is so, so wrong. If they see me sneak one gulp, I’ll be hanged. Slaughtered. Sold.

Every possible outcome imaginable is thrown at me, telling me not to dare put that gravy covered biscuit into my mouth. It was on the floor for goodness’s sake!

Yet, the my mouth can’t stop watering. My hand is nearly there, touching this poor excuse of wasted food.

“ Servant! Control yourself, pheasant.” A gruff voice follows.

Gulping, I clean the rest, setting the shards onto the half broken plate. I take it behind the curtain, right into the kitchen.

Cooks are scattered all around, producing the sweet and savory smells as they walk. I count nearly 20 new dishes, all ready to be fished out within a few seconds.

Right, the food.

I glide to the nearest trash can, slowly discarding the plate pieces first. The next part…

I stare at the food; it still has a hold on me.

Surely I can eat a small portion, right?

I mean, the cooks wouldn’t tell a soul. They are too busy prepping another course for this overly rich family.

No one is looking. Eat up.

I put a small portion of the half eaten pork, brining it closer to my mouth until it touched my lips.