Chapter 18
The door to the banquet hall is held open for me, and a herald clears his throat. "Princess Evelyn, Duchess of Stramshire," he announces.
I wince at the use of my title. Normally, I can get by without using my duchess title, but today is about celebrating the treaty between Falhaven and Wafeland, which means reminding everyone of my station.
And, like all of my siblings, I was gifted a dukedom on my twentieth birthday, and the one that's usually given to those second in line to the throne.
Hopefully, that's not something that will ever matter.
Before long, Kathryn will find someone she wants to marry, though I suppose that part is optional, and she'll have children who will happily push me down the line of succession.
At least, that's my hope.
I nod to several people who acknowledge me as I pass, wishing I could remember all of their names, but being hopelessly lost without Veronica. She has such a talent for remembering who everyone is and what their connections to other people are.
Luckily, Mama has never questioned why I usually put myself next to Veronica on banquet seating plans. Either that, or she's glad that there's less of a chance of someone noticing that I don't like my gravy to touch other sauces on my plate.
I take my seat and fuss with my skirt, making sure it's not trapped under me in a way that's going to be frustrating at a future point. I've had enough experiences of that to know to be careful of it.
Noise already fills the hall, along with several of the other members of nobility.
My cousin sits on the opposite side of the table and raises a glass of wine to me.
I pick up my own to toast him back. I've been blessed with not having to make small talk with him, though I suppose if he wants to talk about his preference for croissants and stroopwafels, I could attempt it.
Veronica takes a seat beside me and lets out a sigh. "I hope the food's going to be good tonight, because I'm starving."
"Of course the food is good," I respond. "Do you think I'd let Father down by organising bad food with the kitchens?"
She snorts. "I don't think that has anything to do with Father. The kitchen is probably too concerned about you saying something bad about their food."
"I wouldn't do that."
"Maybe not. But I bet you're also brutally honest about what you think."
"I give my opinions, but I'd never be rude. On purpose, anyway," I protest.
"And there we are. So, when are we going to see you disappear tonight? Straight after dessert?" she asks.
"No."
"What? You're not going to disappear off to bake?" Her surprise is warranted.
I clear my throat. "No, actually."
She raises an eyebrow. "You surprise me."
"I got that."
"I'd have thought you'd be spending as much of the evening with your baker as possible," she says.
"I am spending time with Nate," I respond. "We're just...not baking tonight."
She blinks a few times. "You're not going to leave the banquet to bake?"
"I thought he might want to see the fireworks," I murmur.
"Oh, Evie."
"Don't oh, Evie me, this is all your fault."
"I don't see how it's my fault," she counters.
Before I can respond to her, the doors to the banquet hall open, and my parents stride in. I rise to my feet along with everyone else.
"Their Majesties, the King and Queen of Falhaven," the herald calls.
Around the room, nobles and other members of the court bow and curtsy to them as they pass, including us when they reach our table, though our curtsies are shallower than everyone else's due to our proximity to their station.
"So, why is it my fault?" Veronica says as we retake our seats and the servants start to bring around the first course of the banquet, placing serving dishes within reach of all of the guests.
"Oh, I don't know, how about are you in love with Nate?" I attempt to say the words in her voice, but I don't think I manage very well.
She winces. "Don't try to imitate people, you're not good at it."
"Sorry," I murmur as I help myself to the chicken Chef Martina prepared. "You'll like the lamb," I say to Veronica.
"Thank you." She helps herself to some of it, adding some side dishes with absolutely no attention to how the things might mix on her plate. "So, why is it my fault you're not baking tonight with Nate?"
"It's not really," I admit. "But I guess I'm overthinking everything now. And I don't want him to think that the only thing I care about in our friendship is baking."
"I think that was already fairly obvious when the two of you talked for hours the other afternoon. You weren't baking then," she points out. "What do you talk about?"
"Everything. How I feel about my job, the things he's seen in the kingdoms he's worked in, food, things we want to make. I don't really know. When I talk to him, it feels like time doesn't matter."
"Sounds like love to me."
"That's what I'm afraid of," I murmur, focusing more intently on my chicken than I really need to.
"Why are you afraid of being in love with him?"
"Because he's leaving," I say. "So what if I'm in love with him?
Last time he left, it took five years for him to come back, and it's only for a week.
If I tell him that I love him, what then?
He'll go, and I'll be stuck knowing that I love him, but there's nothing I can do about seeing him except hope that he comes with a visiting delegation again.
Or I somehow persuade Father that it's safe to send me to Wafeland for this banquet next year. "
Veronica gives me what looks like a reassuring smile and puts a hand on my arm. "I'd go with you. He'd approve both of us going."
"I appreciate it, but it's still not going to help the situation."
"Maybe not," she agrees.
"So I'm just going to make the most of the next few days and go from there."
"I'm sorry, Evie."
"Not your fault," I respond. "Unless you're the one stopping there from being a position in the kitchens for him?"
"You know I don't have any control over the staff," she counters. "You're right, the lamb is really good." She gestures to her almost empty plate.
"Of course I'm right," I point out. "I know food."
"I hope that means you persuaded Nate to make something interesting for dessert," she responds as she finishes what's on her plate.
"I think you'll like it," I respond.
"I think you could tell him."
"Tell him what?" Keeping up with her is exhausting sometimes.
"How you feel," she says. "I think he'd want to know."
I shake my head. "I can't do that to him. I don't want to make things uncomfortable between us."
She takes a deep breath, one that I can almost hear my name sighed in exasperation. "It's going to make things uncomfortable if you keep this a secret too."
Even though I don't want to admit it, I know she's telling the truth. I just don't really know what to do to change that.
I finish my food and look around the room. I don't particularly enjoy focusing on what everyone else is doing, especially when it means that their chatter and the general noise that they make is louder than normal, and harder for me to deal with as a consequence.
There are lots of happy faces around the room, and lots of empty dishes.
The leftovers will be sent back to the kitchens, some of them to be made into pies and other dishes for over the next few days, and some of it will be eaten by the staff themselves.
I hope they enjoy the feast as much as we have.
Serving staff begin to clear the food away, and before long, the desserts are being brought out. My cousin's wife, the Gravin Van Bergdal, looks particularly pleased when she sees one of Nate's slagroomtaarts coming her way.
"It just doesn't compare," Veronica says.
"What?"
"Well, the cheesecake, compared to whatever it is Nate made."
"What if Nate made the cheesecake?" I ask.
"Did he?"
"No. His father did. And he was reluctant to make it with lemon. I thought it might be good to highlight the new bounty of citrus fruits we have available thanks to the treaty with Someil."
Veronica laughs. "And you say you're bad at politics."
"I am. I thought it would be nice. Lemons are still fairly rare this far up north."
She shakes her head, seeming more amused than anything else. "Well, I'm looking forward to tasting what Nate made," she admits as she takes a large slice of the slagroomtaart. "Have you tried it already?"
"Yes. Nate organised a tasting of the whole menu for me after I missed the one the kitchen put on because of my courses."
Veronica stares at me. "He did what?"
"He asked Chef Martina if I could have a tasting still, then took me through all of the dishes himself."
She laughs. "Oh, he would really want to know how you feel."
"I don't know how you got that from him wanting to help me do my job well," I respond.
"Evie, Evie, Evie, what am I going to do with you?" She pushes her spoon through her slice of slagroomtaart and takes a bite, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Other than getting you to convince Nate to move back to Falhaven. Between this and the stroopwafels, I might fall in love with him myself."
"You will not," I say firmly. "You're not into men."
"I can make exceptions." The way she says it makes it sound as if she's joking, but I can't fully tell.
I'm about to ask her further about it when Gravin Johanna appears in front of us. She dips into a curtsy to each of us.
"Cousin," she says, looking at me.
I nod to her in response, hoping she's not here to insult the dessert, though I still don't remember the first time that happened.
"I hear you are to thank for this wonderful feast," she says slowly, her accent stronger than her brother's, but still excellent.
"We have the staff in the kitchens, including some of your own chefs to thank for the food," I say.
"They are very talented," she says. "I believe my grandmother, the Queen of Wafeland, will be pleased to hear about the welcome we have been given here."
I attempt to give her a warm smile, but I don't think I manage very well based on Veronica's response.
"There is still more to come, My Lady," my sister says. "There is a play put on by one of the best theatre troupes in Falhaven. And dancing, if you would like."
"I do like to dance," she says.
"And fireworks," I blurt out.
Gravin Johanna raises an eyebrow. "Fireworks?"
"We get them from Shengda," I say. "They're beautiful."
Veronica nods. "They'll be a perfect way to end the evening."
"Ah. Then I look forward to seeing them. Your Highnesses." She curtsies again to each of us before disappearing back to her seat.
"See, you're not doing too badly at the art of diplomacy," Veronica tells me.
"Other people have done all of the work."
"Just take credit for the work you did do," she responds. "Now, as much as I love you, I see that the Earl of Bofort's daughter is on her own right now. She's just come back to court after breaking off a betrothal, and I should go comfort her."
I stare at my sister. "What?"
"Never mind," she murmurs, patting me on the shoulder and heading off to speak with Lady Bofort.
I finish my dessert and hope that no one is going to ask me any other questions, because there's a lot of noise in the room, and Veronica has already given me more to think about than I already had.
At least this is going to mean I'm one step closer to being able to spend time with Nate, even if I am going to have to sit through a play first.