Chapter 12
I enter Mama's drawing room to find her already seated with her private secretary behind her. I drop into a curtsy while Marion bows behind me.
"Your Majesty," I say to Mama, before going to take a seat on one of the empty chairs. I arrange my skirts and try not to feel too nervous about what's to come.
Marion settles herself at the small desk behind me, and I already hate it. I feel much more prepared for this kind of conversation when she's in a position where I can actually interact with me and give me advice, but Mama doesn't seem to think that's a particularly important choice.
The door opens and one of the servants enters with a tray of tea and cakes, followed by Nate. Despite the fact that I haven't seen him since my ride with Veronica, and I'm still in a mess about the things she revealed, along with what he said before it, my heart skips a beat.
His gaze strays to me and I see the side of his mouth lift, almost as if into a smile, though it doesn't last long. He waits for the servant to finish putting down the tray and turns to Mama, bowing deeply.
"Your Majesty," he says.
"Chef Matthews," she responds.
He turns to me and catches my gaze before bowing. "Your Highness."
I have to swallow down his name, knowing that's not what I'm supposed to call him right now. "Chef Matthews."
He straightens up and steps back, not sitting down, or making any move that suggests this is anything more than a formal interaction with royalty.
I hate it.
"Thank you for coming, Chef Matthews," Mama says. "I'm sure you're very busy in the kitchen."
"I'm never too busy to serve the royal family, Your Majesty," he responds.
"Hmm." She looks over at me before looking back at him. "I've asked you here so that we can discuss what Princess Evelyn will be serving to her suitors when they arrive next week."
Nate swallows hard, but other than that, remains impassive. "It's an honour to be able to do that."
There's a strange expression on Mama's face, but it's hard to work out precisely what it means. "Lady Elizabeth Warson will be arriving in a few days' time. She'll settle into the castle, and then I believe a tea in the afternoon of the next day will suffice to start with."
Marion's scratchy pen sounds behind me and I wince. I should get her a new one for Yuletide. That would be an acceptable time for me to give her one.
Mama leans forward to pick up the tea, but Nate clears his throat. "Please, allow me, Your Majesty."
She raises an eyebrow, but waves for him to continue.
"Lady Elizabeth is from an old Falhavien family," Mama says. "I've heard she's fond of apricots."
"Perhaps apricot pastries?" I suggest. "With custard."
"I think something more elegant than that," Mama says as she accepts a cup of tea from Nate. "Do you have any ideas, Chef Matthews?"
"Perhaps a frangipane tart if Lady Elizabeth doesn't have an aversion to almonds?" he suggests. "With apricot and ginger."
Mama considers it for a moment while Nate pours me a cup of tea. He picks up the cup and brings it to me, meeting my gaze as he hands it over.
My fingers brush against his, and I feel captivated, even if it's just for a brief moment.
"What do you think, Evelyn?" Mama asks me, with a shrewd gaze fixed on me.
"Frangipane tart would look good," I say, only managing to tear my attention away from Nate because I have to. "Especially if Lady Elizabeth likes apricots."
"Excellent, then that would be a good choice," she says. "Prince Francesco will arrive the day before the ball, I was thinking you could also take the opportunity to meet him properly before the main event. He's the third-in-line for the throne of Sovranetti, so a good choice for you."
"Because he's the third-in-line?" I ask. "It seems like a strange reason."
A brief flicker of amusement shows on Nate's face, but he makes it disappear just as quickly as it appears.
"Because he's unlikely to inherit the Sovranetti throne."
"I'm unlikely to inherit the Falhaven throne," I point out. "At least, I certainly hope I won't be."
Mama let out a sigh. "Perhaps you will like the fact that he is supposedly into food, then," she says.
"I suppose that's something," I mutter, though I'm not really sure I believe it.
"Perhaps a Falhaven speciality would do well in this case," Mama says. "Do you have any suggestions, Chef Matthews?"
Nate does a double-take, clearly not ready to be addressed again. "We could serve scones, Your Majesty. Or something like curd tart."
"Hmm, perhaps a little rustic," Mama says.
"There's a Bakewell pudding, Your Majesty. That would be flaky pastry with a layer of jam, and then an almond paste and egg filling. It can be made to look rather refined."
"Perhaps," Mama says. "What do you think, Evelyn?"
"N-Chef Matthews makes excellent pastry, and it would certainly allow Prince Francesco to have a taste of Falhaven. The legends around the pudding say that it was invented in the Midlands..."
"That's enough," Mama says. "I hope you don't intend on informing our guests of the history of what they're eating."
"Perhaps it would be best if I didn't talk to them at all," I murmur.
Mama sighs. "I think that will do nicely, Chef Matthews. Perhaps with your help, Her Highness might be able to secure a promising match." She gives him a look that I think is meant to say something, but I don't understand why.
"My aim is to please Her Highness," Nate responds.
"I'm sure it is." Mama looks at me. "That will be all, Chef Matthews."
"Of course. Your Majesty," he says as he bows to her. "Your Highness." He turns to me and bows.
And I hate it.
I know that we have to go through this part when there are other people around, and that happens often enough for us to be used to the exchange. But it feels different in front of Mama. It certainly doesn't feel right.
I watch him go as he leaves the room, wishing that I could go after him and ask if he's all right. Mama might not have said anything outrageous, but I know that can't have been easy.
Mama clears her throat, drawing my attention back to her. She takes a sip of her tea and sets down her cup. "I expect that you're going to be your most sociable self for our guests."
"I will do my best," I respond.
"Better than your best," she counters. "Either Lady Elizabeth or Prince Francesco would make an excellent match for you. But if you don't like them, then there will be plenty of others at your ball for you to meet."
"I understand what the ball is for, Mama," I respond.
"Good. Then you can go."
I frown, having expected her to talk to me about a lot more regarding the arrival of my suitors, especially when she's had a lot to say on my clothing recently.
But perhaps that is simply something that she believes isn't necessary to discuss right now, and this entire meeting was exactly what Nate and Veronica said it would be, a reminder to him that I'm a princess and that any relationship between us isn't possible.
I just have to hope that he doesn't take her words too much to heart.