Chapter 5
I dangle a poker with a piece of meat on it in front of Ember and she gives me an impatient look.
"If I've got to learn to wait for things to be ready, then you do too," I tell her.
She lets out a sound that's a bit like a huff.
"All right, you can have it," I tell her.
She doesn't waste any time and lets out a stream of flames, charring the meat on the end of my poker. The metal warms a little in my hand, and I wonder about whether I should ask the blacksmith for a new one with a wooden handle to protect myself better from Ember's flames.
A knock sounds on my door, and I get to my feet before calling for the servant to enter with my tea tray. I glance down at Ember, but she's still busy making her way through the meat she's just cooked and won't cause any trouble.
The door opens, and a smile spreads over my face as I realise it's Nate holding the tray.
Ember looks up from her meal and gives him a small squeak of approval before going back to her food.
"I didn't realise you were free," I say.
He smiles. "I've got half an hour or so before I need to be back in the kitchen," he says. "When I realised they were preparing a tea tray for you, I offered to bring it up."
"And no one questioned that?"
He chuckles and sets the tray down on the low table between my chairs. "It's a bit late for us to pretend not to spend time together in the kitchens," he points out.
"Right, yes." I pause when I get to him. "Hello." I lean in and press a kiss against his cheek, not really sure how we're supposed to be greeting each other yet.
"Hi." He smiles at me in a way that makes my heart flutter.
I glance over at the chair I usually sit in, but realise that I don't want to be so far away from him and sit down so that we can be on the same seat.
I rearrange the skirt of my dress so that it doesn't annoy me.
The last thing I want is to be distracted by it when I'm getting surprise time with Nate.
Ember finishes with her food and stretches out her wings.
For a moment, I think she's going to head over to us, but she toddles over to the fire and makes herself comfortable.
Her wings stretch out far enough that she's blocking heat from the rest of the room, but I know she'll settle down soon enough, and we'll be graced with the fire again.
"Tea?" Nate asks, bringing my attention back to him.
I nod. "Thank you."
"I didn't think you'd have the time to take tea alone today," he says as he pours himself a cup as well.
"I could have had guests," I point out.
"You ordered tea for one."
"Veronica is out riding with the Duchesse. I wasn't invited," I explain.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No. I'm not actually sure if they meant riding, or if they meant something else."
He laughs. "They've actually gone riding. The horses were brought into the courtyard behind the kitchen."
"Oh. Somehow I'm disappointed that I didn't read the situation right." I let out a sigh. "I'm never going to be good at reading people."
"Maybe not, but you're good at a lot of other things."
"You don't have to humour me," I mutter.
"I'm not." He reaches out and takes my hands in his.
"There's nothing to humour you on, Evie.
You've got your own strengths. And you don't need to be able to read people better than you do already, not when there are people around you who can help.
And last I checked, you're a princess. You have a private secretary whose job it is to do that. "
"She's supposed to keep my schedule and make appointments for me," I respond.
"I wouldn't know, I haven't had much of a reason to have a private secretary." He picks up his cup of tea and takes a sip. "I brought the curd tarts, if you want to try them."
"Oh." I look at where they sit on a decorative plate, and a horrible feeling settles in my stomach.
"Evie?"
"I already ate some," I blurt out. "They served the curd tart after we had lunch with the Duchesse, and there was no way for me to avoid it. And I feel awful, because we were supposed to be trying them together, and..." Tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
"Evie," he says softly.
I look up at the sound of my name, seeing a caring expression in his eyes.
He reaches out to touch my cheek. "You don't have to feel bad about that. You didn't do anything wrong."
"I feel like I did." Tears run down my cheeks, and he wipes them away with his thumb.
"But you didn't. But if it makes you more comfortable, I can send two desserts up to every meal."
I sniff louder than I intend to. "You can't do that. It's so much more work."
"It would be worth it to not make you feel like this," he says.
I shake my head.
"All right, well, we'll come up with a solution later," he says. "But I promise that I'm not upset about it. You've had curd tart before."
"I know."
"We can save these for later if you want," he says, looking over at the plate.
"No, it's fine. I want to try them. I was just upset that I was in a position where I couldn't say no." I still am, but his reassurance does make me feel a little better about the situation.
"I can understand. What did you think of the piece you had?"
"I barely tasted it," I admit. "Though your pastry was perfect. Not that I'm surprised. And the Duchesse said that your croissants were excellent. Almost as good as her chef back in Gaullesse."
"That is quite the compliment," he responds. "And I see you're talking about me with the visiting delegation." He leans forward and cuts the two small curd tarts into quarters and splits them onto two plates.
"We were talking about the tart. It came up. But I felt proud when she talked about how much she liked your croissants."
"I'm glad." He holds out one of the plates to me, and I take it from him. "This is the one with currants, and this is the one with the mixed dried fruit," he says, pointing to each in turn.
"Now that we're trying them, it feels a little silly to have insisted we did a taste test."
He laughs. "How do you think I get better at baking? How do you get better at baking? This is good for me too. I switched to using mixed dried fruit years ago, maybe it isn't better, but I've just tricked myself into believing that it is."
"I find that unlikely." I pick up my cup of tea and take a sip before I eat any of the tart.
I pick up the first piece, checking to make sure I know which it is and taking a bite.
The soft but firm filling of the curd tart is slightly tart, which goes really well with the sweetness of the pastry, which crumbles perfectly even though these tarts are so much smaller than the one we cut into earlier.
I set the piece down and focus on the flavours before taking another sip of tea so that I can feel like I've got a clear ability to taste the other one.
I pick up the second piece of tart and take a bite. At first, it tastes the same, but then there's a slight hint of citrus coming from this one.
"So, what do you think?" Nate asks.
"I think the one with the mixed fruit is better," I admit. "But only because of the dried citrus peel. It's subtle, but it adds something."
He lets out a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad that you said that."
I frown. "Why?"
"I don't want you to think that I don't know what I'm doing."
"I'm never going to think that." I set down my plate and reach out to touch him. "I think you're a wonderful baker. I didn't mean to make you feel like you weren't by questioning the ingredients."
"You didn't," he assures me.
"I won't question your ingredients again," I promise.
"What? Evie, no." He takes my hand in his. "I don't want you to stop questioning me. The entire time I was away, all I could think every time I learned a new recipe was what you'd think of it, or if you'd have suggestions for it being better."
"I hope that wasn't all you were thinking about."
His smile softens as he looks at me. "A lot of my thoughts were about you. But I did think of other things. Mostly what I was learning, and there are some combinations and desserts that I haven't had a chance to try yet, but I want to. It's definitely easier to do that now that I'm in charge."
"And have a sous chef," I say, thinking of Chef Asselin.
"Yes. That's helpful. But Camille is mostly dealing with making a lot of the elements that I need. She's been doing the pastry."
I raise an eyebrow. "I'm surprised. It tastes just like yours."
"The advantage of being in charge is that everyone does things my way," he responds. He picks up his tea and takes a sip. "Are you going to be coming down to the kitchen tonight?"
I shake my head. "I don't think I can. There's a dinner tonight, and Mama has made it clear that I'm not allowed to leave before it's over. It will be close to midnight before I can come down."
"Ah."
"But tomorrow? I don't even think we're having family dinner tomorrow, so I can come earlier."
"Then I'll think of something good to make," he responds. "Unless you have an idea of your own?"
I shake my head. "I don't mind so long as I get to spend time with you."
His smile lights up his entire face, making me look forward to it, and glad that I got this time with him today, even if it was unexpected. Or maybe especially because of that.