I was heading to my study when the commotion from the kitchen caught my attention. Laughter, hushed whispers, and what sounded suspiciously like metal clanging against the floor drew me toward the source of the chaos.
What I found stopped me in my tracks.
My wife, her lady's maid, and my head of security stood in the middle of the kitchen looking like ghosts—or rather, like they'd been caught in an explosion at a flour mill. White powder covered every visible surface, including their hair, faces, and clothing. Various bowls and utensils were scattered across the counters, and something that smelled distinctly burnt sat cooling by the window.
"What in God's name happened here?" I asked, unable to keep the amusement from my voice.
Isabella spun around, her eyes wide with dismay when she saw me. "Alaric! You weren't supposed to be down here!"
