Vow of Magic Outtake: Kenji's Mighty Spoon

Spoiler Alert! If you haven’t yet read Vow of Magic, come back to this post later. Although this scene does not appear in the published book, it does contain spoilers. You’ve been warned. :)

This is one of my favorite deleted scenes from a previous (scrapped) draft of Vow of Magic, which I love very much. I hated to cut it, but when I got into the later revisions, it no longer fit the story’s current pacing. Instead, I saved it especially for you! I believe this scene appeared in the third draft of the book, immediately after the first run of developmental editing. There were a number of lighthearted scenes between the characters in question that, unfortunately, didn’t make it into the final book.

I don’t remember exactly where this scene fell, but it was somewhere in the middle of the manuscript (probably 65-75% through if I had to guess). There are many other scenes like this, which I’ll be sharing over the course of the next several weeks. Hope you enjoy!

;

.

.

.

.

Half an hour later, Peasant trailed Caitir to the kitchens. The cat ruse had become something of a game between Eremon and Caitir. Lately, she found it difficult to hold in her laughter when they traipsed around the Dome this way. 

Today it was almost impossible. Once she’d gotten her tears under control, Eremon had done everything he could to coax a smile out of her. He’d apologized for invading her privacy, and had immediately gone to work trying to cheer her up. 

The truth was, she had been glad about the sketchbook. She was thrilled that he’d loved the drawing. But the emotions surrounding its memory were almost unbearable, and she wished the encounter with the book hadn’t come as a surprise.

Kenji’s cooks were preparing to take a midmorning break when they entered the kitchens. Eremon waited until they’d left the room to transform. Tiriya remained behind with her father, clapping a hand over her mouth in surprise when she saw Eremon shift. 

“No one told me he could do that!” she cried. 

“The opportunity hadn’t arisen.” Kenji winked at Caitir, then rounded the corner and pointed his spoon at Eremon’s face. “You: get over here and wash your hands. We’re cooking for the lady this morning.” 

Eremon grinned at him. “Dare I refuse, and face the wrath of Kenji’s mighty spoon?” 

Caitir giggled. “Forsooth, ’tis a ballad for bards!”

Laughter burst from Eremon. “I’d love to hear you sing it.” 

She waved him off. “That’s Aidryn’s job, not mine. Let him write it, then put him on stage at the next Nami Mostari. It will be quite the spectacle.” 

Kenji narrowed his eyes, scowling as Tiriya jumped into the fray. “It could go something like this: Kenji’s mighty spoon—“

Eremon’s eyes lit as he added, “Is poised to seal your doom.” 

Now, it was Caitir’s turn. “So be well fed or feel the dread—“ 

“Of Kenji’s mighty spoon!” Eremon finished, snatching the spoon from Kenji’s hand with a flourish and brandishing it above his head like a baton. “Now for verse two!”

“No verse two,” Kenji said sternly, holding his hand out for the spoon. His mouth twitched, as though he was holding back laughter. “Caitir is getting fresh pastries, courtesy of the insufferable, immortal, late-but-returned Rí Eremon, who is surprisingly talented in the kitchen.” 

“And with verse, apparently,” Tiriya teased. 

A peal of laughter broke from Caitir, and Eremon turned to gawk at her. She shrugged, cheeks heating. “You, in the kitchen?” 

He grinned. “Kenji says I’m very good at kneading.” 

She smiled then—a wide, genuine smile. “Then get on with the spectacle.” 

“Everything is a spectacle with this one,” Kenji said with a shake of his head, gesturing to Eremon. 

Eremon, Kenji, and Tiriya worked merrily, trading verbal barbs, with Caitir occasionally chiming in. She took advantage of the bustle, letting her gaze rest on Eremon as he moved about the room. It was strange to see him shoulder-to-shoulder with the cook and his daughter, working as though he’d been comfortable in a kitchen his entire life. She wondered if he had been doing this since childhood. 

Briefly, Eremon broke from the fray, leaning across the work table toward her. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” she admitted. She hadn’t been able to stop grinning since they’d arrived.

“Good.” Eremon looked as though he might walk away, then paused, lowering his voice. “By the way, I would bake for you every morning if it meant seeing you smile like that.” 

Caitir pressed her lips together before replying. “Careful. I might take you up on the offer.”

He offered her a broad smile and a wink. “It’s far more enjoyable than politics; I can tell you that.” 

“Get back to it, or Kenji will whip you.” She nodded meaningfully toward Kenji, who had paused work to brandish his spoon at Eremon.

“I will!” the cook declared. 

When the pastries were in the oven and they’d cleaned the flour and butter from their hands, the three joined Caitir around the dining table in the adjoining room. Eremon took a seat beside her, sighing as he leaned back and crossed his hands over his belly. 

“That sort of exertion used to make me tired and hungry,” he said. “I’m a little disappointed that my stomach isn’t eating itself right now.” 

“You’re lucky if you don’t feel hunger,” Caitir said. “Lately, all I want to do is eat.” 

“Papa,” Tiriya said, nudging her father’s shoulder, “I want to know if you’ve thought about what I asked you.” 

Kenji sighed heavily, his gaze sliding to her. “Oh, I’ve thought about it, more than I’d like to.” 

“Then you aren’t refusing?” she asked hopefully, sitting up straighter in her chair. 

The cook’s expression was profoundly sad as he replied. “The problem with engaging in certain duties to the crown is that I can’t exactly prevent my child from following in my footsteps.” 

Before Tiriya could reply, Kenji held up a hand and added, “But you need to know more about the continent first. Your mother, Eremon, and I can teach you.”

“Caitir needs to know, as well,” Eremon said. “That’s something I’ve overlooked, but it doesn’t hurt that her father was the ambassador to Iteloria.” 

“I know a bit about it,” she admitted, “but not enough.” 

“If there were plenty of other spies to work for Iathium, I would say absolutely not,” Kenji said, his countenance more somber than Caitir had ever seen. “But these are extraordinary times. We need all the help we can get.” 

—

Read Vow of Magic (The Witness Tree Chronicles, Book 3) here.