CHAPTER THIRTY
We had nearly finished our food as Henrika had demanded when Oskar strode into the kitchen with a large tray filled with about two dozen beer mugs. He set the dishes down beside a wide sink and turned to us with a frown. “Eating me out of business again?”
“Only on the orders of your most excellent cooks,” Ros defended us as he snatched the last bit of meat from the platter. I had already given up and, with my dishes cleared, had made use of the open table and laid my head on my folded arms.
Oskar cast a sharp eye at the pair who were conveniently busy working away at their duties. “Their orders, is it? Well, they’re not the ones paying for the food.”
My eyes lit up as a memory struck me. “We can pay.”
Both Oskar and Ros lifted their eyebrows at me, and Ros leaned
