“Did he now?” Fauna barely hid her squeal as I walked deeper inside the room. “How unbelievably thoughtful. Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Emilia?”
“Indeed.”
I glanced around. It was nothing close to our small family restaurant—it was much larger and grand—but still, it felt like home. Against my better judgment, a wave of gratitude washed over me. Wrath had guessed I’d eventually find my way here, to the one place in this realm that would feel familiar to me unlike any other.
I turned back to the head cook. “Thank you for letting me into your kitchen.”
The cook inclined his head, then marched back to bark orders at the line cooks.
Tension melted from my limbs as I opened the icebox and spied a basketful of plump berries. A tub of what suspiciously appeared to be ricotta sat beside them. My mother was the huge talent with dessert in our family, but I’d learned enough to make a rustic pie.
I gathered up all of my supplies and set up my station near the giant window. In moments I already had the pie crust dough sorted and mixed. The berries were quickly rinsed and set on a towel to dry, awaiting the sugar I’d toss them with. Perhaps I’d make custard, too.
Metal clanging on metal drew my attention up. Wrath and Anir darted back an
d forth outside the window, their swords and daggers clashing like thunder. I couldn’t help but gawk as they charged each other, whipping their weapons through the air. Sparks literally flying upon each contact their blades made.
I gave Fauna an accusatory look. “The kitchen wasn’t the only distraction you had in mind, I see.”
Her grin was too wide to be innocent. She hopped up onto the window’s ledge and snagged a pen and notepad, feigning interest in taking recipe notes as she peered over the pages and watched the two warriors do mock battle. They swung the swords above their heads, their powerful bodies heaving from the exertion of the heavy weapons and the training.
“I have no idea what you mean, my lady. I didn’t know they’d be here.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” I watched as she gazed at Anir, recalling the two of them chatting merrily before Makaden’s tongue removal. “How long have you been in love with him?”
She jerked her attention to mine. “Why would you think I cared for the mortal?”
“You mentioned pining for someone when we first met and haven’t stopped looking at him. I won’t pry if you prefer to keep it a secret now, but I like Anir.” I nodded to the dessert station I set up, giving her a way to evade the topic. “Don’t be afraid to pick up the rolling pin and help. It doesn’t have teeth.”
She giggled behind her notepad. “Perhaps not, but have you seen the way the prince is looking at you? It’s his bite you need to watch out for.”
I rolled the dough for the crust with singular focus. I was doing everything in my power to not look at him. Of all the places in the entire castle, he simply had to choose this moment to train, in sleeveless leather armor, directly outside the kitchens.
Though I supposed Fauna was equally to blame for this so-called unexpected meeting.
“He’s got a sweet tooth,” I said, realizing she was still waiting for a response. “He’s likely looking at the pie.”
“Dessert isn’t the only thing he looks hungry for, my lady. I wish Anir would gaze upon me with such longing.”
“Pursue him.”
“Trust me, if he gave any indication he’d be open to my advances, I would pounce. His highness currently seems to be experiencing the same dilemma.”
My fiendish attention slid to the window. Torchlight glistened off a sheen of sweat Wrath had worked up wielding his sword. Our gazes clashed in time with the metal of Anir’s blade. Fauna was right. Wrath looked like he was working off the magic of our bond. And was losing the battle. He didn’t bother hiding his attention.
I promptly went back to rolling the dough, using more concentration than was required.
I could not forget the feeling of the blade sliding into his flesh. I set the rolling pin aside and started on the custard, forcing the silent crunch of bone from my thoughts.
“If I may speak freely, it’s no small favor he’s granted you.”
“What favor?”
“Not insisting you finish the marriage bond. It’s all anyone’s been talking about.”
I hoped the flush in my cheeks would be mistaken for the warmth of the kitchen. How fabulous. The entire court was gossiping about us bedding each other. “This realm certainly needs to learn the difference between choices and favors.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Some might argue that you did make a choice, the night you started the betrothal. That he was the one without true choice.”