The corridors of Lothian Manor were busier than Jocelynn expected for this hour. Servants hurried past carrying linens and platters, their faces flushed from the heat of the kitchens, and their voices kept to hushed whispers that fell silent as she passed.
She caught fragments of their conversations, enough to know that the household was already consumed with preparations for the Grand Ceremony, and that Jean, the new Master of Kitchens, was working his staff hard in order to keep up with the requests of all of the visiting aristocrats and their knights.
Jocelynn had tried to make her way to the kitchens on more than one occasion in order to meet with the mysterious cook who had prepared delicacies from her home in a clear effort to send her some kind of message. Each time she thought she could finally take the time to meet with him, however, some other issue had reared its ugly head, demanding her attention.
