Chapter 8
I'm exhausted by the time Mama finally allows me to leave the parlour, and a quick look at the clock reveals that it's nearly eleven.
Disappointment worms its way through me. Nate will be done for the night and will have already gone to bed, especially because I know he has to be up early in order to bake for breakfast.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I don't know how to fix this.
I want to spend time with him, but with Mama insisting that I'm supposed to stay at events until they end, there doesn't seem to be any way to do that.
It's not like I can come down in the middle of the day anymore.
I used to do that, but that was when he was the baker's son and nowhere near as important as he is now.
I know that I can't be his first priority, even if it stings that it's true.
I push the thoughts aside. I spent five and a half years baking without him, I know that I'm perfectly capable of doing that.
Maybe I can even make something that I can leave for him to have for his own breakfast in the morning.
It will have to be something quick, especially as I have to be up early for an appointment with the seamstress myself, but I like the idea of doing it and letting him know that I'm thinking about him even when I'm not with him.
The kitchens are nearly dark, without even a spit boy to tend to the fire. With the gas ovens they put in a few years ago, it's been possible to stop the practice and let everyone get some sleep at the same time. From what Nate's told me, it's a welcome change.
I frown as I notice a brighter light coming from the smaller kitchen that's now become Nate's base, but is where we've always done our baking together. Maybe he left one of the lamps on in case I came down to bake after he'd gone to bed. That's a really sweet thing for him to do.
It isn't until I reach the door that I realise I'm wrong about why the light's on, and he turns around. "Good evening, Evie. No Ember?" Nate asks.
"Nate? What are you doing here?" I respond. "And no, she was asleep in my fire, so I left her there." From experience, I know that it's better to do that than have a grouchy dragon on my hands.
He raises an eyebrow. "I imagine I'm here for the same reason you are."
"Because you need a break from my mother so you don't scream?" I ask.
He laughs. "All right, not exactly the same reason. I'm here to bake with you."
"It's late."
"I know how to read the time, Evie."
"I meant that it's late for you to still be here. Don't you need to be up early in the morning?" I don't want him to be too tired.
"I can go if you want me to." He waves at the door.
I step forward without even thinking about it. "No."
"I thought as much." He smiles and reaches out to pull me into his arms. "I'm here because I want to be. I know what time it is. Some things are more important than sleep."
"But..."
"But nothing. There are some advantages to being the person in charge, and one of them is that I don't have to get up anywhere near as early as I used to. Which means I can be here with you for a bit." He leans in and kisses my forehead.
I lean my head against his chest and let the steady beat of his heart calm me. "But I don't want to keep you up too long."
"I have some fairly quick ideas, though you'll have to wait until tomorrow to eat it."
"I almost always have to wait until tomorrow," I point out.
"Fair point." He pulls back. "How do some peanut truffles sound?"
"Peanut truffles?"
He nods. "I made some peanut butter for Prince Ernest earlier, and I remembered a recipe I read a few weeks ago. I thought you might want to make it."
"That sounds good. I hadn't really thought about what I was going to make. Just something. My head is hurting."
"That bad?"
I grimace, not entirely sure what I can tell him about the situation. Normally, I tell him everything, but I don't know if I can tell him this now.
"Evie?" He sets a jar on the table in front of us, before adding the other ingredients.
"Mama is starting to matchmake me," I blurt out.
"Kathryn says that it's nothing to worry about and that she's not going to force me to marry anyone, but she's still doing it.
And I don't know how to feel because I don't want to get married.
And I don't want to court anyone. I just want to be with you. "
"That's a lot of information to take in," he responds slowly.
I close my eyes and bite my lip. "I know that it's a lot, and that it's awful."
"It's not awful," he promises. "I mean, it's not fun to think that the Queen is inviting lots of people to the castle to try and impress you, but it's not exactly a surprise. She did the same to Princess Kathryn."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I've been back at the castle for a couple of months, and people talk. The Queen is not particularly subtle about it. I've made plenty of pastries for when Kathryn is entertaining."
I frown. "You didn't tell me that."
"I thought you knew," he responds. "I'm sure the instructions for what I'm supposed to prepare for your meetings with suitors are going to come soon too."
"That's horrible," I whisper. "I don't want you to have to do that."
"It's my job, Evie."
A lump forms in my throat. "I can tell Mama no again."
"Do you think she'll listen to you?"
"She hasn't yet," I respond. "But maybe..."
"Then I don't think we can count on that," he says. "Will you heat the cream? We'll be making a ganache, so you don't want to bring it to the boil."
I nod and head over to the stove to do that, only pausing to put on an apron.
"So, other than the Queen insisting that you start meeting with suitors, how was the evening?" Nate asks with a strange note in his voice, one that probably has to do with what Mama is planning.
I frown and look down at the cream in my pan, though it's not doing much yet.
I don't know how I'm supposed to answer him.
Should I let him change the subject? Or should I continue to try to talk to him about this?
I don't really want to do the latter, but I also don't want him to think that I don't take us seriously, whatever we are.
"It was loud," I respond. "Veronica was playing cards with the Gaullessian delegation, and they seemed to have a good time. Kathryn joined us as well, which is the first time she's been sick. She told me that she enjoyed the things that you made her." I look over at him in time to see him smile.
"I'm glad Her Highness is feeling better."
"Me too. She gave me some advice on the situation with Mama." I let out a sigh. "We can't avoid talking about it, can we?"
"I didn't think we were avoiding anything," Nate responds.
"The cream's ready." I turn off the stove and pick up the pan with a cloth so I don't burn myself, taking it over to the table where Nate has a bowl of peanut butter and chocolate.
"Pour it in," he says. "I've done a mixture of chocolates. I think the new milk chocolate will bring the truffles a sweetness you'll like."
"New chocolate?" I ask, even as I pour the cream over the contents of the bowl. Small swirls of melting chocolate twist out through the white surface of the cream, but I know better than to mix it. I need to let it sit so that the hot cream can do what it's supposed to.
"Yes." Nate turns, and I don't think he's going to say more until he produces a bar of chocolate, snapping off a piece and holding it out to me.
"It's a recent invention. A man in Rhiland made chocolate using condensed milk.
It's meant to be for drinking chocolate, but it works well for things like this too. "
I take it from him. "And I can just eat it?"
He nods. "It's nice, you'll like it."
Slowly, I open my mouth and put the square of chocolate in. It melts on my tongue, bringing with it a sweetness I don't really expect from chocolate when it's eaten pure. Usually, I eat it when it's already been made into truffles or otherwise had some sweetness added to it. But this is silkier.
Nate is watching me with his warm brown eyes and an expression of adoration on his face.
"It's good," I say. "Much nicer to eat than the usual chocolate."
He chuckles. "That's because you have a sweet tooth," he responds. "But it's too sweet to only use it in the truffles, so I've mixed it with some plain. It's probably ready to be mixed, if you want to do the honours?" He holds out a whisk to me.
I smile and take it from him, letting my fingers brush against his as I do. "You said you made the peanut butter for Ernest?" I ask as I start to mix.
Nate nods. "He's been enjoying it on bread, apparently."
I frown. "I'm not sure I'd like that."
"Have you ever tried it?" he responds.
"No..."
"I can have some sent up to the mountain solar for breakfast tomorrow if you want to."
"Perhaps," I respond. "Usually, I have whatever pastry you've sent up rather than bread."
"You do?"
"Is that a surprise?" The ganache is getting thicker and browner as I mix it, causing me to need to put a bit more effort in.
"I thought you might want to have the same breakfast every day," he admits.
"I know you'd tell me if you thought I wouldn't like something," I respond. "So there's no need to. If you've sent something up, I'm going to like it."
It's hard to read the expression on his face, which is unusual for me when it comes to Nate. Usually, he's the one person I can consistently understand. Then again, I suppose I did manage to miss that he was in love with me until Veronica pointed it out.
"All right, I think this is done," I say, pushing the bowl of ganache towards him.
Nate picks up the whisk and gives it a check before nodding. "It looks good." He takes the whisk out and drops it into the box that's going for washing.
"What now?"
"It has to sit for an hour."
"An hour? I can't help the shock that creeps into my voice. "I thought this was a quick one, so that you could go to bed?"
"It is quick," he responds.
"It's going to be more than an hour before you can go to sleep," I point out.
"Mmhmm, which is an hour longer that I get to spend with you." He smiles at me, which makes my insides feel like the melted chocolate in the ganache.
"I do like that," I respond, making my way around the table so that I can put my hands on his chest.
He leans in, and my heart starts to race in an entirely pleasant way as I realise what's going to happen. His lips brush against mine, soft and full of emotion. He tastes vaguely of chocolate, but I don't know if that's just from the piece I ate myself.
And even if I wish he wasn't going to make himself tired in order to do it, I am looking forward to an extra hour to spend with him, especially when I didn't think I'd get any time tonight.
And because waiting an hour in order to make the truffles means that there's a lot of time for potential kisses.