Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Pearly White flashed his smile at the camera from his place in the kitchen near the door, so you could see all the contestants behind him at the counters or table.
“And now for the baking competition! Who will delight our princess’s tastebuds?
Hm? They say the way to a woman’s heart is through the stomach.
Will it be our werewolf, Hughenot Raferty, and his way with lean meatcakes…
” The camera panned to the place where Rafe was tenderizing steak with a spiked mallet.
“Or will the incubus Banus Jones steal the day with his molten lava cake?” The camera panned to Banus’ mixing batter in a bowl looking all sensual and delectable.
Whatever cake he made, he’d get voted as being most delicious.
“Or will the fairy, Monterose Fellicci with his spun sugar delights win another red rose from our princess?” The camera panned to the fairy who had a canister of sugar in one hand and a mixer in the other.
His smile was romantic and sultry, like he was about to burst into song.
“Or will our elf Zander Spinnera create a vegan masterpiece tempting enough to outdo all the rest?”
The silver-haired elf smiled and added, “It’s also gluten and sugar free.” It’s like he was trying to lose.
Pearly White backed away from the elf without giving him another look. The camera panned over to the angel where he worked smashing strawberries in a saucepan. “And the rejected angel, can he show the world he’s more than a soldier? Does he have a heart that can love?”
Richard gave Pearly White a devastating smile, the sun coming through the window to catch his hair like a halo.
“Baking doesn’t take heart, just baking powder.
Also, for those who are unaware, six months is the max shelf life for optimal rise.
So clear out your cabinets regularly. Only you can prevent fallen angel cakes.
” He winked and my heart fluttered stupidly.
The camera swung over to me where I sat on a stool in my fluffy pink dress, as fluffy as pink buttercream frosting.
I smiled brightly and tried not to look like I cared.
But to be honest, the angel was the only one who looked like he knew what he was doing, and his forearms while he mixed his batter or smashed his berries were irresistible.
Particularly the left one. The one I’d buried my face into as I drank his blood.
I forced myself to look around at the other men.
Banus was so attractive and capable looking, but then he dropped his batter-covered spoon on the floor, splashing his pants and Rafe’s legs.
The werewolf was wearing shorts that showed off his bare calves, which he also must keep waxed.
For a werewolf he was an absolute freak.
“Watch yourself, Inky!” Rafe snapped, then flashed a sharp smile at the camera.
I should take up crochet so I had something to do in the middle of the kitchen while everyone moved around with so much testosterone in that small space.
Not that the kitchen was small, but the angel alone took up most of it with his energy.
The elf hummed as he worked on the other side of Banus, serenity etched on his face as he sniffed a sprig of mint and then added it to his bowl.
Was he even trying to make something edible?
The fairy was kind of hilarious, because every movement was a dramatic gesture as he flung sugar and nuts, his facial expression blissed out and sultry, like he was in an opera about cake baking, not actually doing it.
His bowl had lumps of sugar studded with nuts and fruit, but nothing that looked like the beginnings of anything edible.
The werewolf was wrapping strips of bacon around a slab of meat, flexing his arms and moving just so for the camera. Meat cake? Really? The question was if he’d actually cook it. I didn’t like raw meat. Blood wasn’t my favorite, either, but raw meat? Ugh.
The angel sifted flour and the light shone, picking up the specks of white surrounding him like mystical clouds.
He glanced up and caught me staring. I jumped and quickly looked at Banus.
Yes. He was so hot. Why was he using a fork to break up his chocolate?
He looked good, but what was he doing? Did he have any idea what a molten lava cake was supposed to actually be?
My gaze inevitably found its way back to the angel who mixed and beat and poured like he’d been a professional baker in another life.
Once again he caught me staring, and once again I tried to look at someone else.
Seriously though, why wasn’t he chopping things with his sword and looking like an arrogant idiot?
He looked like an arrogant professional which I apparently found incredibly attractive.
For the rest of the hour I tried to watch the other contestants, but it was glaringly obvious that there was only one competent baker in the bunch. And I liked watching competent bakers. So would the audience if the way the camera focused on Richard was any indication.
When the bell rang, time up, I hopped off the stool, nerves raw just from trying to not stare at the angel.
“Well, Princess,” Pearly White said, holding out his arm. “Shall we adjourn to the parlor? I’d like to get your thoughts on the various contestants while they set up their treats for you.”
I put my hand on his arm only for a second before he shook it off and nodded at the camerawoman.
“Set her up on the chair next to the fireplace. She looks good with flames. Particularly heavenly ones, but of course those would devour her as well as anyone else. And Princess,” Pearly White said, fixing a stern look at me.
“Try not to make your preference for the angel so completely obvious, hm?”
Humiliation. Was anyone else listening? Everyone was listening, including the angel.
I walked out of the room stiffly, because if I moved a muscle, I’d explode!
How dare that Siren say something so obviously wrong?
Just because I liked to watch a good baker didn’t mean I liked to watch the angel.
I just needed better contestants. Everyone had obviously lied about their love of baking on their form.
Except for Richard, but he didn’t even fill out the form! So annoying.
I followed the camerawoman to the parlor and the chair, but it faced a red velvet couch exactly like the one I’d bled out on.
I pressed my hand to my heart. It was still tender, even after all the healing spells and my own regeneration.
I’d come so close to dying, and Mini was gone.
All those hours I spent teaching her how to use eye shadow so it accented instead of overwhelmed.
A traitor. Why did she do it? Who hired her?
What was the price of my life, of our friendship?
“Four, three…” Pearly White flashed a smile as he sat on the fireplace ledge, so the shot was of us with the flames between. “So, Princess, what do you think of the contestants in the kitchen? I know you put cooking as only second to musical ability on your love list.”
Love list? There hadn’t ever been a love list. I smiled hard. “Cooking is important, but who needs to know how to bake when you can order in?”
He laughed a wicked laugh and leaned closer. “Several of these men would love to order in with you. Tell me your thoughts on these gentlemen. Out of the two wicked lads, the wolf and the incubus, who do you find more irresistible?”
The werewolf waxed his legs. I kept my smile, but it was difficult.
“It’s hard to say. They’re both so charming.
The werewolf is so raw and untamed, but the incubus seems so sweet.
You know, just because people are incubus or succubus doesn’t mean that they don’t have personalities beyond the obvious sex appeal. I’d love to get to know Banus better.”
He nodded, sympathy written on his face.
“Indeed. And who wouldn’t? Now let’s talk about the heavenly brothers.
Speaking of hard to get to know, the elf doesn’t stand out very much.
You met Monterose Fellicci before the show, so he has the advantage, and his personality is very outgoing, but how can we draw out Zander so you and the audience can really get to know him? ”
I held onto my smile. “I would love to have a gardening class by Zander, where he can teach us about all the plants in the garden. I feel like that might make him feel more confident and like he belongs here. Because he does. He’s a really great guy.
I can’t wait to do the duet next week with him.
Maybe we can spend time in the garden between now and then. ”
“Excellent idea, Princess. Now, what everyone wants to hear from you, is how you feel about the angel. I know you were expecting a cupid, someone more interested in love, but you got the Lion, the HOST’s Commander’s own son.
You haven’t been posting about it, and everyone needs to know the details.
Why did you reject him after he saved you?
Did something happen offscreen to earn your dislike, or are your harboring secret feelings that you fear he can never return? ”
Kill me now. Just kill me. I smoothed my dress down while I tried to hang onto my smile.
“Such a great question, Pearly White. I guess it comes down to the fact that…” My mind went blank.
Mini died. I almost bled out on a couch exactly like the one behind the camerawoman.
Someone wanted me dead because I was related to my father, and I was here on a dating show just because I wanted to live a happy life with pretty dresses in a cottage and never translate a dead language again. What was the point of any of it?