Chapter 5
Musicians play in the corner of the formal dining room, filling the air with lively music that almost drowns out the scraping of cutlery as people eat.
Tonight is a much more intimate affair than the banquets I'm in charge of organising, but that doesn't stop it from being an elaborate affair.
Sometimes, I wonder why Father hasn't also asked me to take on these kinds of dinners too, but I'm not about to put the idea in his head if he hasn't thought of it before.
There are about two dozen people around a large table, with my parents at the head of it.
Two seats down from me, my brother is leaning towards his wife and whispering something to her.
Probably an explanation about the food or something like that.
They're very sweet together, especially now that they're finally in the same place rather than corresponding with one another through letters.
To my right, my older sister Kathryn is in an animated discussion with the Admiral of the Fleet, which is a surprise. I don't think I've ever known her to be that interested in the sea.
I stare down at my plate and push a carrot around.
It's touched two different sauces, and my mind is rebelling against the idea of eating it, but I also don't want to disappoint the kitchen staff by sending it back, especially when I intend to make my way down there later so that I can bake with Nate.
"Don't eat it if you don't want it," Veronica says from my left.
I sigh. "I should eat it."
"Evie..."
Tears prick the corners of my eyes. "I should be able to eat it."
"But you can't," she says softly. "So don't."
I sigh and set my fork down. I know she's right, but it's frustrating to feel as if I've been defeated by a carrot.
"What are you going to bake later?" she asks.
"What?"
"I'm trying to distract you from the carrot. You can't cry here," she reminds me. "So, what are you going to bake?"
"Croissants," I respond. "Nate said he'd show me how they're made properly."
She chuckles. "You're going to sneak out of dinner even earlier than normal now that he's back, aren't you?"
"I don't sneak out. I walk out," I point out.
"And I know that I need to stay for a certain amount of time.
" As much as I don't always like it, I know that I have to be here.
There are some things that I can't get around, even if I am a princess.
Though maybe I can't get around it because I'm a princess.
Veronica reaches out and touches my arm reassuringly. "Our parents know you can only take so much of being around other people."
"Other people aren't so much the problem," I mutter. "It's the noises other people make that I don't like."
She laughs. "That sounds like it's the people that are the issue."
I shrug. "I don't mind being in the kitchen and all the noises they make there," I point out.
"I think you'd probably feel differently if you had to work there and didn't just go down when it's quiet," she points out.
"There are always people in the kitchen," I point out.
"Yes, but you're not going there during mealtimes, or even when they're preparing for meals, because you have other things to do. Meetings with officials, organising events, whatever it is you do with the rest of your day..."
"Try not to scream while people ask me inane questions," I murmur.
Veronica snorts. "We have that in common."
The servants appear behind us to clear our plates, and we both sit back to allow them to take them. I do like smaller dinners like this in the fact that I get served a specific plate for myself.
"Do you know what they're serving for dessert?" Veronica asks me.
"No idea," I admit. "I don't have anything to do with the daily menu."
"That feels like something you could be in charge of."
"I don't believe that Chef Martina would like that. It makes sense for me to have input for banquets when they're important political functions, but the daily menu is entirely different."
"But then how am I supposed to know what's going to come out for dessert?"
"Blackberries are in season," I respond. "So perhaps something like that. And there's been a recent delivery from Someil, so there could be something with oranges or lemons. They were both delivered."
"Maybe Father should have put you in charge of the ship manifests," Veronica responds. "I'd never remember that."
"I only know because of the fresh ingredients in the kitchen right now," I point out. "If you ask me how much cinnamon we have from Shengda, then I can tell you. But if you ask me how many bolts of silk we have from Gaullesse, then I wouldn't be able to tell."
"That's because most of our silk comes from Shengda too," Kathryn says from my right, surprising me. I didn't realise she was paying any attention to us.
"See," I say to Veronica. "I don't know any of that."
"Though the silk does come through Gaullesse, so it's an easy mistake to make," Kathryn says. "It's the quickest route between Shengda and Falhaven, and Shengda has treaties with both of our kingdoms."
"How do you even know that?" Veronica asks our older sister.
"You think Father lets me do my duties based on my charm alone?" she asks, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder. "I've had to study all of this."
"I don't envy you," I say, sitting back in my seat. "I'd make a terrible Crown Princess. I don't even have any charm to be able to work with."
"You have charm," Veronica assures me. "It's a unique kind of charm, and it mostly comes out when you're talking about cake, but you're not totally useless."
"Thanks," I murmur.
Our conversation is cut into by the arrival of the servants with our dessert.
"I have to admit, you know what you're talking about," Veronica says as she looks down at her plate of cheesecake with several blackberries dotted around it artfully, alongside a drizzle of purée.
"If there's one thing I know, it's food," I respond. "And the kitchen staff know how to make the most of seasonal ingredients."
"What about you?" Veronica asks curiously.
"It's a challenge to be limited to what's in season, but I also like it when there are new ingredients from other kingdoms that I can use."
"No doubt that's what you're looking forward to the most with our cousins' visit." She pushes her spoon through her cheesecake, making a satisfied hum when she eats it. "Other than your baker returning."
"He's still not my baker," I mutter. "But yes, I'm looking forward to seeing what gifts our cousins bring. I hope they have some of the sweet syrup they brought a couple of years back."
"What would you even do with it?" she asks.
"I think it's part of the filling in the middle of the stroopwafels you like," I say. "But that's part of the fun. Finding new things to do with it."
She gives me a strange look. "You're full of contradictions."
"I don't believe so."
"Well, you wouldn't," she responds. "But you like things to be the same all the time, except when it comes to baking, then you'll try anything."
I shrug. "Baking comes with instructions and rules." I take a bite of the cheesecake, nodding in response to the creamy taste that goes perfectly with the blackberries. "And I don't have to like what I make in order to enjoy the process of making it."
"You don't eat everything you bake?" There's surprise in her voice.
"I normally try it," I respond. "But I don't eat most of it."
"What does happen to it?"
I shrug. "The kitchen staff eat it. Or in some cases, we eat it for breakfast."
"Mmm, I do like those days," Veronica responds. "Maybe I'll even get some of the croissants you make tonight. I did like them when I went on the state visit to Gaullesse with Father a few years back."
"I'll tell Nate you want them," I respond.
"Thanks." She smiles and turns back to her cheesecake.
I eat my own, leaning back in my seat and trying to ignore the loud chatter in the room and the scrape of spoons against the plates. I glance at the large clock on the wall, wishing the minutes would tick by faster until it's an acceptable time for me to disappear and not come back to dinner.