“Gods dammit.” I gag, once again nearly losing the contents of my stomach. “What in the Holy Gods' names is that?” I stare at the vile pot of stew bubbling over the fire.
“It's a simple blend of stewed vegetables my Queen, flavored with a little lard found amongst the supplies here in the camp.” A soldier answers curiously. I gag again, holding a hand to my face, covering my nose and mouth, trying to block the smell.
“Are you sure the lard hasn't spoiled? Or..” Another gag “One of the vegetables?”
“Everything smells alright to me, my Queen, it was thoroughly checked before we began cooking.” The soldier offers. “Would you like to test it to be sure?” He holds a ladle closer to me for me to examine the stew and I back away swiftly, my hand now clasped tight to my mouth while I shake my h
