Chapter 14
Evangeline
Niko’s words hang heavy in the air, suffocating me.
Even Finnick, who has kept his jovial disposition since I’ve arrived, looks grave.
All the fae appear scared, even if they won’t admit it.
Their gazes bore into me with unbridled hope.
Hope I will be the salvation their kingdom so desperately needs.
That expectation placed upon me is hard to swallow, especially since I’m still not fully convinced Ender didn’t make a mistake.
I suppose Ender made the connection of my love for cooking and their need for food. As good as I am in the kitchen, I can’t magically make meals out of poisoned or rotten food. Well, technically, I could, but it would only serve to make everyone even sicker than what they already are.
“We don’t have to figure everything out today,” Niko says at last, his voice breaking the heavy silence that settles over the room. Around us, a collective sigh rises—not one of relief, for true relief would only come when the kingdom is safe, but a small release to ease the suffocating tension.
Niko offers a kind smile, though it barely touches his tired eyes. I catch the same weariness in his gaze I saw in Zephyr’s. “You mentioned you were making breakfast?” His tone is gentle, almost hopeful for a moment of normalcy.
Despite myself, my gaze flickers down the counter to Zephyr. He’s ice-cold and distant. Not mean, per se, but far from welcoming. He will be tough to crack, but I hope eventually Zephyr and I can become friends. Only friends, since he made it very clear he doesn’t want to marry me like Niko does.
It’s going to be a strange entanglement.
“Eva?” Finnick gently touches my shoulder, startling me out of my wayward thoughts. “You okay?”
No, I’m far from okay. But there’s no use in voicing that when it won’t change my predicament. Instead, I simply smile. “I’m good. Let me just get breakfast out.”
Knowing food is scarce, I feel bad for using so many ingredients in one dish. But neither Lady Thalia nor Finnick stopped me, so I don’t think I overstepped. Which is good because food gets me into my element.
“I’ll get the plates,” Lady Thalia says, gesturing for Finnick to help her.
While they work on that, I turn and check on the casserole in the oven.
It’s not a conventional oven that I’m used to.
This one takes literal fire to burn underneath, which must be manually started to work.
Finnick wasn’t the best teacher, but we managed.
Using oven mitts—which I brought from home—I grab hold of the casserole pan—which I also brought from home—and remove the dish from the heat, placing it on the counter.
The sweetness of the berries and syrup permeates the air, causing my stomach to rumble.
“That smells wonderful. What is it?” a voice comes from behind me, hand brushing my back.
It’s a ghost of a touch. A whisper. And yet it ignites my body with unexpected heat.
Niko’s large body hovers just over me, looking at the breakfast I made.
Does he know he’s touching me? Why does it feel so natural?
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Zephyr watching us.
His gaze is searing, burning a path down to where Niko’s hand rests lightly on my back.
Heat rushes to my cheeks, as if we’ve been caught doing something far more scandalous than a simple, innocent touch.
Flustered, I take a quick step to the side, creating a much-needed space between Niko and me.
Niko notices immediately, and his brow furrows in a deep frown.
Anxiety frays the edges of my mind, but I focus on what I know. The food. “You didn’t have much, and now I know why. I made do, though. I used some of the day-old bread and cubed it up. Finnick showed me where the berries are—”
“We have more berries?” Niko raises a brow, turning to his brother.
“We did. But I ate some and gave the last to Eve.”
“You ate all those berries? Finnick, we had three crates full.”
“And now we have none! Want me to regurgitate them for you? And I didn’t eat all of them; I gave some to the people of the forest.”
Niko and I make a face. “No, that won’t be necessary. But I am forbidding you from the food pantry since you can no longer be trusted around our supplies,” he admonishes.
Finnick murmurs something that sounds unkind before plopping down on Zephyr’s shoulder. A rare smile appears on Zephyr’s face as he gently flicks Finnick. “Thought you were lighter.”
“Oh, shut up,” Finnick mumbles.
“Here you are, dear girl,” Lady Thalia says as she appears at my side, offering me a stack of delicate plates—the kind adorned with intricate patterns, far too elegant for everyday use and more suited for an elaborate tea party.
I accept them carefully, along with a polished serving spoon she presses into my hand.
Moving down the table, I begin dishing out portions onto each plate.
A quick scan of the table reveals no powdered sugar, so instead, I sprinkle each serving with a light dusting of granulated sugar and a pinch of cinnamon for flavor.
And now my favorite part, which is arguably also the worst part. I wait to see if they like my meal.
“What is this?” Zephyr pokes a piece of bread as if it were a science experiment rather than breakfast.
Doesn’t really give me the boost of confidence I was hoping for.
“It’s called cinnamon toast and berry casserole.
I…I tend to favor sweet breakfast over savory.
It was something I made a lot when I was younger and we didn’t have much food in our house.
If you don’t like it, you can tell me. I can take it.
” I really can’t, but all good chefs have flops.
Not everyone is going to like my meals, and I have to be okay with that.
Even if it makes me sick.
“Well, it looks delicious,” Lady Thalia says and is the first to take a bite. I watch in agony as she chews slowly, letting the flavors sit on her tongue. Her eyes widen as she swallows. Instead of saying anything, she takes another bite. And then another.
That’s a good thing, right?
“Evangeline, this is exquisite. I haven’t had breakfast like this in…well, my dear, I don’t think I’ve ever had a breakfast like this. It is simply divine,” she says in between bites.
My heart soars at the praise. It’s one thing to like your own meal, and quite another for someone else to appreciate it just as much.
Finnick is the next to dive in. He ditches his spoon, which is far too big for him anyway, and uses his hands to shovel the food in.
“I. Love. This,” he mumbles between bites, cheeks fat with the casserole.
Niko and Zephyr eat with a surprising civility, their movements measured and refined.
My gaze flicks back and forth between them, like I’m following a fast-paced tennis match, searching their faces for any hint of reaction.
But they remain silent, even after taking several bites, giving nothing away.
It’s agonizing. Their opinions mean a lot to me in a way I can’t describe but need.
“You hate it,” I blurt, unable to hide my disappointment.
“I hated that loaf of bread I tried to feed you the other night.” Zephyr takes another bite before gesturing at his plate. “This? I will topple kingdoms just to get seconds.”
“This is the best thing I have eaten,” Niko says in agreement.
My face breaks out in a smile so wide it’s painful.
But I don’t care because my future husband and my…
Zephyr likes my food. “Well, as the saying goes, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
” I grin and take a sample taste. The sweetness explodes on my tongue, and I nearly moan at the delicious flavors.
My body thanks me as I eagerly shovel more food into my mouth.
“There’s plenty to go around. Maybe we can pass it out to a few people? If you said food is limited, we can give it to those who need it most. The sick and children? I made enough for at least eight more servings. I know it’s not much…” If I had known before, I would have made more.
“Eight servings are plenty for now. There are a few gravely sick patients who would benefit from this. Thank you, Evangeline. Your kindness won’t go without notice,” Lady Thalia says before taking the last bite of her breakfast. I half expect her to lick the plate clean.
I smile, opening my mouth to thank her, but the words die in my throat as a piercing scream splits the air.
It’s a shrill, agonizing sound, so high-pitched I can’t make out what they are saying.
Around me, the fae stagger, nearly collapsing to their knees as they clutch their heads in a desperate attempt to block it out.
The noise is unbearable, but I can tell it’s affecting them even worse.
I just don’t know why. A jolt of fear rips through me, sharp and sudden.
Then, as suddenly as it comes, the scream fades into obscurity.
“What was that?” I gasp.
No one answers. Instead, Zephyr stiffens and strides past me toward the window, his movements sharp with purpose. The moment he looks outside, his entire body goes rigid, tension radiating from him like a drawn bowstring.
“What is it?” Niko makes his way toward him. “Is it another Nephilim?”
Zephyr curses and slowly turns to us. His expression is a mixture of anger and confusion. “Yes. But he’s not alone.”
“There’s more?” Niko scans the room as if trying to find a weapon or escape route.
Zephyr shakes his head. “There’s only one Nephilim. But he’s chained and being led by Oziel, the demon king.”