Chapter 20
Matthias could have let it lie.
Una had returned the letter to him, choosing not to use it against him. So the summons he had been dreading would never come. He could spend the days until the Golden Harvest Feast perfecting the presentation Renaud had asked him to prepare.
But the knowledge of his falsehood still irked him. He had watched Una slowly dismantle the armor she had built and he wanted to do the same.
So several mornings later, he asked her to visit Renaud with him.
The Royal Flourier was at his writing desk, working on the serving order for the feast. He looked up at the two of them in his doorway and set down his pen.
Matthias stepped forward, setting the letter down on his master's desk, the broken disc of gold wax facing up. "I have something to confess," he said.
While Renaud picked up the letter to read it, Una stepped forward and reached for Matthias' hand.
Renaud's shrewd eyes looked up from the letter, staring back at Matthias before dropping to their joined hands.
"I am ashamed to have done it," Matthias said. "And I will accept whatever you decide to do with this information. I could not continue training under you without having earned that place honestly."
Renaud folded the letter closed again, creasing it between his fingers.
"While I did not affix my name to these words," he said.
"I have watched you in my bakehouse these last two months and I can confirm that they are true.
You still have two years to earn your title, and much to learn.
Though my daughter tells me that your keen attention to detail and penchant for making lists has uncovered truths that the physicians—and even myself—were unable to find. And for that, I have to thank you."
Matthias bowed his head. "Thank you, sir."
"Though if you dare to offer my daughter a bite of anything from the codex, I will personally ruin your reputation as a flourier." The older man's gruff eyes were stern as he looked up from his desk, but Matthias smiled at his protective statement.
"You seem to forget, Father," Una said, squeezing Matthias' hand, "that I am quite comfortable saying 'no.'"
Una stood in front of a table of massive, towering, beautiful sweets.
The grand hall was even fuller than it had been on presentation day.
The gold-domed ceiling threw the light of a hundred candles back down over the long banquet tables, around which sat dignitaries from half a dozen kingdoms, who had come to Lamera to trade for the year's golden harvest. King Leon held the place of honor at the head of it all, his broad face already shining in anticipation of the feast.
The displays before her were everything the codex demanded. Gloire cakes glazed in caramel. Brioche braided into sheaves of wheat. Spun-sugar towers catching the candlelight like spun gold. The pride of Lamera, golden and sweet and perfect, exactly as it had always been.
Today, she wore a delicate summer dress with short sleeves which left her arms bare.
As she walked along the length of the table, she was not looking for anything to criticize.
She was looking for the crow.
It sat at the very center of the apprentice's presentation, and the whole room had been murmuring over it since the cloth came off.
Where every other flourier had built upward in towers of gold, Matthias had built one small, dark, glossy thing—a crow, no taller than her hand, perched on a slender branch of spun sugar with its wings half lifted, caught in the breathless instant before flight.
It was made entirely of cocoa.
She knew, because she had watched him make it.
He had ground the paste, warm and smooth until it poured like cream, folded sugar into it until the bitterness bloomed into a flavor that was as deep as it was sweet.
Then he had carefully poured it into a mold he had carved himself.
The candlelight slid over the bird's glossy back, making it appear almost real.
Even the head was tilted, just slightly, to give one glassy eye the full view of the room.
Una smiled in delight. He had captured Sable perfectly.
"Cocoa," King Leon said, leaning over his own table laden with the exact duplicates of every treat. "I never did care for it. Too bitter."
A ripple of agreement moved through the nobles.
"What do you think, Una," the king asked, his loud voice booming across the room. "Is the apprentice's bird worth eating? Or only worth looking at?"
The room went silent. Every eye on her, waiting for her judgment.
Only a few months ago, the pressure of the crowd had overwhelmed her, forcing her to hide behind the tower of cakes as she hid food in her sleeve.
But today, she had no such fear. Her eyes found Matthias, standing across the table in the front of the crowd. His eyes smiled at her and he gave her the smallest shake of his head. You don't have to do this, not here, not in front of everyone.
She smiled back.
Reaching out, she lifted the smallest piece from the display of cocoa—a single dark feather that sat loose at the crow's feet.
She held it up, admiring the glossy brown that reflected the gold-painted domed ceiling above her. Somehow, even here, the cocoa was flecked with gold.
Then she placed the feather in her mouth.
The cocoa melted across her tongue. The bitterness came first, deep and roasted, and then the sugar rose up beneath it.
She had discovered that sugar was safe to eat, as were eggs, and butter.
And she found that she loved the flavor of sweet things as much as she loved the bitterness and tang of her herbs.
Finally, the cocoa in her mouth released the floral lift of lavender and the earthy base of lemon balm—her flavors.
Matthias had experimented with many more, but he had chosen these for tonight. For the crow he had made for her.
She closed her eyes. She let her face do whatever it wished. There was no longer any reason to school it.
When she opened them, the hall was still waiting.
"Your Majesty," she said, her voice carrying as loudly as his across the hall. "That is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted."
For a moment no one moved. They were too stunned at her open appreciation.
Then, the king threw back his head and laughed, and the whole hall broke out into an astonished applause.
Matthias grinned at her. His chest was puffed out and his shoulders were high. He loved her praise.
She laughed back at him. She was only too happy to give it. As long as he kept making her delicious—wheat free—treats.