Chapter 14
The kitchen is warm and comforting the moment I step inside, even if I'm here to make the frangipane tart for tomorrow's tea with Lady Elizabeth, something I'm not looking forward to in the slightest.
Ember is munching on the stack of meat scraps Nate gave her as part of his plan to win her over, though I'm not entirely sure it's needed any longer.
She seems to like him perfectly fine other than scratching him the other night.
Then again, she's done that to me several times, and I'd say she likes me.
I reach out to touch Nate's arm as he looks over the recipe in his leatherbound book. He pushes it closer to me so that I can look over it. Just like a lot of his other recipes, this one has notes in the margins where he's made changes or has thoughts about what could make it better.
"Do you think this is a good choice still?" I ask him.
He nods. "And even if we wanted to change it, I don't think we can now the Queen has approved it."
"Ah, yes, everything about tomorrow has to be approved," I respond, a little bit of bitterness entering my voice.
"You're going to be fine," Nate assures me. "You've met plenty of nobles before and managed to make convincing small talk."
"I'm not sure that convincing is the right word," I murmur.
"You haven't caused any diplomatic incidents yet," he responds. "Or none that I've heard about."
"Maybe my parents managed to cover them up before the papers in Wafeland heard about them."
He chuckles. "Did they?"
"Not as far as I know. Veronica is more likely to cause a diplomatic incident than I am."
"I think we all know it," he says. "Right, so frangipane."
I grimace. "I'm sorry you have to make this."
"I'm a pastry chef, Evie. It's my job to make this," he says. "Though I am tempted to burn it."
"Nate! You can't do that."
He laughs. "I promise I won't. I don't want to tarnish my reputation with burnt pastry. Besides, the Queen might remove me from my position for it, and that would run very contrary to my plans."
"Your plans to..."
"Be with you, Evie."
"I would still find a way."
"I have no doubt about that." He smiles at me in a way that fills me with warmth. "All right, so the pastry case is already rolled and in the ice house, we just need to make the filling."
I frown. "We're not blind baking it?"
"Not this time. The frangipane is a thick batter, you don't need to blind bake the pastry because it's not going to make it soggy."
"Oh."
"Here, you're going to need this." He passes me the rotary whisk. "Beat the butter and then add the sugar."
"Got it." I put the whisk into the bowl with the butter and turn the handles to make the attached whisks spin until the butter is fluffy.
Once that's done, I beat in the sugar while Nate finely chops two bulbs of preserved ginger. The rest of the ingredients are already laid out on the table in front of us, including a jar of preserved apricots.
"It must not have been very fun to eat in winter before they started preserving things," I say as I look at the bright orange halves floating in the jar.
"I think they've been preserving things for a long time," Nate responds.
"Even so, I'm glad we live today. There are always new methods of cooking and preserving things coming out."
He nods in agreement. "I've heard rumours that there's a new tea shop in the village," he says. "The owner is from Shengda and has dozens of different kinds of tea."
I blink a few times. "That's so many different types."
"It is."
"Maybe we could go?" I suggest.
"To see if there's a new blend for the castle?"
"No. Because it sounds like it would be fun," I respond. "If you want. I know that's more public than the theatre."
He passes me the eggs, and I add them one at a time, beating in between.
"I'd like that," he says. "If you're comfortable with it."
"I don't know the answer to that," I admit. "I want to be able to go wherever I want with you, but I know that it could cause rumours and I don't want to make things more difficult for you, or make Mama angry when she already seems so annoyed at me."
"We've got time." He reaches over and touches my hand. "You can add the rest of the ingredients now."
I nod and add the flour and almonds, while he uses the knife to slide the chopped ginger off the board and into the bowl. He grabs a tablespoon measure and adds some of the syrup to the mix before gesturing for me to stir.
The ginger fills the air with a sweet and spicy scent, making me look forward to finding out what the frangipane is going to taste like, even if I'm not looking forward to taking tea with Lady Elizabeth.
"I'm going to grab the tart case, will you drain the apricots?" he asks.
I nod and set aside the beater so I can do as he asks. The jar is heavy, but it doesn't take much doing to get it to the sink and to drain it. By the time I'm done, Nate has returned with the pastry case. He sets it down on the table and starts filling it with the frangipane until it's full.
"What now?" I ask as I put the jar back on the side.
"We put the apricots in," he says, fishing one out of the jar and pressing it into the top of the frangipane, and then following it with another.
Once I'm confident in what he's doing, I start helping, adding my own apricot halves until the tart is complete.
"All right, let's put it in the oven, and then we're done. "
"It's a shame I have to have tea with Lady Elizabeth in order to try it."
He laughs. "I'd say it's something for you to look forward to, but I actually have something better." He slides the tart into the gas oven and flips over the timer.
"Oh?"
A moment later, he produces a small tart with a single apricot half in the centre. "This is a spare one from my test run earlier. I wanted to make sure that the amount of stem ginger was right, and then I saved this one because I knew that you were going to want to try it before it cooled."
"You make me sound so impatient."
He chuckles. "I just know you, Evie." He puts the plate down in front of me and grabs a knife to cut into it. "Do you want a fork?"
"Does it need one?"
"I imagine the Queen would say yes."
"And you?"
"I don't think you need it," he responds as he finishes cutting it into quarters."
"Then my fingers will do." I pick up a piece of the tiny frangipane and smell it. "Oh wow, the ginger is coming through strong."
"There's more of the syrup used to preserve the ginger on it from after the bake," Nate says. "So there's lots of it."
"Ah." I take a bite and let out a satisfied hum.
"That's good." The sweetness from the syrup hits my tongue and is followed by a pleasant heat from the ginger.
It's all accompanied by the nutty almond cake, the slightly tart tang of the apricots, and the crunch of Nate's pastry, which is as perfectly crisp as usual.
"It is," he agrees as he eats his own piece. "This is the recipe I had us do for the larger one that you'll have with Lady Elizabeth."
"Hopefully, she likes it, because then at least I'll have something to talk about, even if there are several topics on the banned list."
"Like?"
"The fact that I baked it, the history of baking, and anything that could be considered too much cake. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to talk about, because it's not as if I can have a real conversation with her."
"Have you asked Veronica?"
I frown. "Since when do you not say Princess?"
He clears his throat. "I must just have heard you say it too many times."
"After sixteen years?"
He shrugs. "I misspoke."
I have no idea what that means, but I let it go.
It's not really what's important. "I haven't yet.
But I'm hoping that I can ask her for some suggestions over breakfast. She's good when it comes to dealing with people.
I was going to ask her to make me a list of questions that I should ask someone when I want to get to know them.
I'll probably use it for Prince Francesco too.
" I let out a sigh. "How is this my life? "
"Because you were born a princess, and this is part of what comes with it."
I wrinkle my nose. "This suitor situation is going to get old very fast," I say as I pick up the second piece of frangipane. "I know it's not going to go anywhere, and on top of that, there are so many rules that it makes me want to scream."
"I know, I was here when you broke down the other night," he responds.
I give him a weak smile. "Thank you for that."
"Always." He brushes his hand against mine. "Have you tried explaining to the Queen why you don't want to do it?"
"You mean telling her that I'm in love with you and don't want anyone else?" I ask. "No. I haven't told her that. Do you think I should?"
"It's not really my choice." He turns around and leans against the table. "I've made it clear what I want, Evie. It's up to you to decide what you want."
"I know what I want."
"Things can't stay exactly the same as they are now forever," he says.
I roll my eyes. "I know that." I go to join him, but not before glancing over at the oven and making sure that Ember isn't about to interrupt our important conversation with demands.
"I want to be with you. I know I didn't really think about what it would mean until recently, but I knew that's what I wanted.
I don't want to marry Lady Elizabeth, or Prince Francesco, or any of the other dozens of suitors that Mama thinks are eligible.
I want to be with you. I know that no one is ever going to be able to understand me the way you can. "
"I've had a lot of practice at it," he jokes.
"I didn't realise how you felt about your job though. I thought you loved it."
"I love parts of it," he assures me. "And it's a good job. I didn't take it thinking that you'd tell me you loved me and that we had a potential future together. I took it thinking we'd just be friends, like we were."
"Friends who were secretly in love with one another," I murmur.
He laughs. "Apparently."
"It was so much of a secret that I didn't realise myself."
He reaches out and takes my hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "But you did."
"Do you really think I could talk to Mama about it?"
"I don't know how she'll respond, but I think that's up to you," he says.
"What if you lose your job because of it?"
"I doubt that will happen," he says.
"And if you're wrong?"
"Then we'll deal with it," he promises. "If you think it's right to tell the Queen, then I trust your judgement."
"At least one of us does, then," I murmur.
He laughs. "We'll work on you trusting yourself more too," he promises. "You're going to be fine, Evie." He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it.
A sense of peace comes over me as I look at him and realise that if he thinks I can deal with this, then I truly feel like I can.