*

Sam was awoken by someone tugging at his shoulder.

“Come on, sleepy head – it’s time to make breakfast,” a voice said. A voice too close to his ear – he could feel the person’s lips against the shell of his ear.

“Elexander?” he muttered, shuffling onto his back. He winced at the harsh sunlight glaring down at him.

It was blocked out suddenly and he found himself face to face with Elexander.

“Ecky,” he said, his dark eyes twinkling. “Break. Fast.”

He started to haul Sam into a sitting position. He hid behind his fringe, pressing a palm to his forehead. Where he was came back to him suddenly. Who he was with and why. It had been the deepest sleep he could remember, as if he had been asleep for days.

“Why do I have to o it?” he asked, his voice barely comprehensible through a yawn.

“Because.” Elexander grabbed his arms, and pulled him to his feet effortlessly. He was completely suspended – almost helpless. “You were Coursi’s servant as well, right? I bet you’re a better cook than the rest of us.”

“I thought we were eating provisions,” Sam mumbled, still unable to open his eyes fully. He hadn’t brought anything he had to cook with him. Just some dried meat, biscuits and apples. It hit him that he was being held by Elexander. His cheeks burned and he pushed himself upright.

“What is I told you I caught a fish?” Elexander said slyly, and completely oblivious. He was grinning, basically glowing in the morning light.

“You did what?”

“There were a couple in the river,” Elexander shrugged. He leant down to a bag at his feet and drew out a huge trout. It was as long as his forearm. Sam recoiled from it as it thrashed.

“Of course,” he said, despite himself. Because it made Elexander grin and looked like he was made of sunshine. “Get me a spit and a knife.”

Ten minutes later, he was removing the fish from the spit and was cutting away the bones and head with a knife The way the fishmonger had taught him years ago.

Elexander was peering over his shoulder, practically drooling. Sam’s heart was fluttered but he concentrated on his work. When it was done, they chopped it up and served it with the knight’s rations. He found himself enjoying breakfast. The knights had an easygoing banter that lifted his mood. It made Bean Nighe seem like a distant dream. It made it feel like there was a reason for him to be here.

Lefrich woke last and ate quickly without speaking to anyone. Elexander mumbled to Sam that the Prince “wasn’t a morning person,” and they received a frosty glare.

But then he turned to Sam and said, “well, at least you’ll be able to cook a nice meal for the faes.”

Which just sent Sam stomach sinking again. The Prince was right.

If he couldn’t do alchemy, how was he expecting to help?