x
Theresa was in a state when Chevalier and I returned from the stables. I glimpsed her bare back as soon as he opened the door for me, and I spun and shoved him into the hallway, apologizing to him and Theresa as I slammed the door in his face.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” I asked her. She stood half-naked in front of the floor-length mirror, holding a dress in front of her, and, judging by the pile of clothes on the floor, her open bureau drawer was empty, or close to it. A damp towel hung over the back of the vanity chair, and the assortment of brushes, combs, and hairpins scattered across the surface of the vanity told the story of a recent battle with her hair.
“My hair took too long,” she said, scowling at her reflection. “I wanted to try this new style, and it turned out great, but nothing I have goes with it.” She tossed the dress in her hands onto the reject pile, groaning with exasperation. “What am I going to do?”
“You must have something,” I said, studying her hair. She’d tamed her red curls into an off-the-shoulder style that lent her an air of subtle seduction, and I had to agree with her. Most of her wardrobe was bright colors or bold statements. That style needed something softer. “What about your new cream dress?”
She frowned and pulled it from her drawer. “Yeah, maybe,” she said, turning back to the mirror with a critical eye. “But it needs something else.”
“Red lipstick?”
A smile spread across her face. “You’re right. That would be perfect.”
“Great. So, can you help me out of my dress now?”
“Calling it a night already?” she asked, pulling her dress on and following me behind the dressing screen. She’d given up telling me we weren’t on ground level and nobody could see me through the windows. If the drapes were open, I changed behind the dressing screen or in the bathroom.
“No, but I’m baking after dinner, so I thought I’d just change while you’re still here,” I explained.
“Your dinner! Oh, Ivetta, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot!”
“It’s fine,” I laughed. “I’ll just eat in Chevalier’s room.”
“Do you want the dress with the red skirt?”
“Yes, please.”
I stepped out of my gown and tossed it, the corset, and my chemise over the dressing screen. She returned with the simple commoner’s dress for me, her own dress bagging in the front from unbuttoned fastenings at the back.
“You know, you could cook for him,” she suggested.
“Cook for him?”
“Yeah. You already know what he likes, and you’ll be in the kitchen later, anyway. Why not?”
“I haven’t cooked in two months, though…” I mused, chewing on my lip.
“Do you really think he’ll complain about anything you make for him?” she asked knowingly.
I blushed. “Probably not.”
“Okay, now do me,” she said, finishing the last button on my dress. I turned around and buttoned her dress up. The material itself differed from the rest of her wardrobe, too, hugging her voluptuous curves and adding to the allure. “And if everything goes well, you can come back here for dessert.”
“Theresa!”
She laughed. “Just have fun. I’ll have this mess cleaned up for you two when you get back.”
“Do you have time for that?”
She looked at the clock and gasped. “I’m already late!” She snatched the tube of lipstick from the vanity.
“I’ll clean this up later,” I told her. My reflection said my updo didn’t look right with the commoner’s dress. I removed the hairpins while she rolled her bright lips together with a loud pop.
“You’re getting better at fashion stuff, Ivetta.” The red lipstick added sophistication to her look, and when she put a hand on her hip and struck a pose, I couldn’t imagine any man saying no to her.
“Thank you,” I said, dropping the hairpins in their cup and grabbing a ribbon for my hair. I followed her to the door, securing the ribbon around a quick ponytail. Chevalier had dismissed my guards when we left the library, so he was the only person waiting in the hall. His crystal blue eyes only glanced at Theresa before returning to me.
I guess there was one man who could say no to her.
“Sorry to make you wait,” I said, smiling as I took his arm.
“This feels wrong,” Theresa said. “The maid is all dressed up, and the princess is dressed down? Good thing Sariel isn’t here.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” I told her. “Have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Bite your tongue,” she called over her shoulder. “And thank you! You’re a lifesaver.”
Chevalier leaned in and stole a quick kiss, making me blush and glance furtively at Theresa’s retreating form. She didn’t turn around.
“I take it we’re not eating in your room,” he said, the warmth in his eyes making my heart feel fuzzy. I shook my head.
“We could eat in your room, or…I could cook dinner,” I suggested shyly.
He smiled, and a swarm of butterflies came to life in my stomach. “It would have to be something quick if we’re to finish before my brothers join us in the kitchen.”
That sounded like a yes to me.
“Of course. I’m used to having a limited time for cooking. It won’t be as fancy as what you’re used to, but I’m sure I can come up with something you’ll like. Let’s see…you’ve probably never had meatloaf, have you?”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll make that, and salad, and…oh, strawberries are coming into season. Those would be good. I can set some aside for dessert toppings, too, and make some whipped cream to go with them. If we have any lemons, I can add a little lemon juice to the salad, and save the rest along with the rind for zesting later.”
He listened in silence while I planned the menu, straying naturally into the topic of dessert as ideas came to mind. A stop off at the cold storage deep below the kitchens was a necessity. We garnered a few startled looks from servants when we entered the stairwell leading down into the cellars, which gave me a giggle. Sariel wouldn’t be happy about this, either. I should be engaging important guests in witty conversation over fine cuisine in an elaborate gown, and instead, Chevalier and I were searching for something as plain and simple as ground beef among the select cuts of only the best meats hanging from hooks in the ceiling or packed in salt and brown paper wrappings.
“That should be plenty,” I said, adding a package of meat to the onion he’d insisted on taking from me. His muscles were taut under my fingers when I took his arm again. “Chevalier?” I asked, studying his suddenly stony expression.
“Let’s go.” His flat tone told me he didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t push him, but he didn’t relax until we were above ground again.
“Oh, I didn’t think about chairs,” I said with forced cheer when we stepped into Yves’ favorite kitchen. It was empty, as I expected.
“I don’t need one.” He set the onion and package of meat on the counter and hoisted himself up to sit next to them.
“Okay, well, that works for you since you’re tall,” I said, grabbing an apron from a hook on the wall and tying it around my waist. “But I guess I won’t be sitting down for a while. Could you hold on to this for me?”
His smile returned when I handed him my ring. “Gladly.”
I spun away from him, relieved he was back to normal, but I froze with my fingers on the cuff of my sleeve. If I rolled my sleeves up like I normally did when cooking, there would be no hiding the scars on my arms.
“I already know about them, Ivetta.”
“Well, I’m not making anything really messy,” I said, faking the cheer and my smile again as I released my sleeve. “I’d better get all the ovens started so they’re hot enough when I get to the cakes.”
“Ivetta.”
“Knowing about them and seeing them are two different things,” I insisted, still not looking at him. “And it won’t just be you. Your brothers will be here later, and so will Silvio, Gilbert, and Keith. So, I was thinking, instead of choosing one cake, why don’t I make all four?”
“My brothers know about them, too.”
I sighed. He wasn’t letting me change the topic.
“I’m not sure they do. Clavis said something at the ball last night about wanting me to show more leg.”
“I’m aware,” Chevalier said coolly. “And I’ve reminded him why you don’t.”
That didn’t make me feel better. If anything, I felt a little queasy.
“I just don’t want to deal with it tonight, Chevalier.”
A few minutes of tense silence followed as I gathered the supplies I needed, but I couldn’t resist the comforting, familiar pull of working in the kitchen for long. I didn’t dislike being a princess by any means, but it took a lot of thought and effort. This came naturally to me. Mincing the onion with minimal tears, adding it and just the right blend of spices to the ground beef, moving on to the salad while the meatloaf baked, cutting up strawberries, whipping cream - this was easy. And fun.
“The meatloaf should be done in a few minutes,” I said, handing Chevalier his salad. “And the batter for the chocolate cake is ready, so I can start that while we’re eating.”
“At what point do you intend to sit down?” he asked, an amused smile on his lips.
I shrugged, smiling up at him. “The sooner I finish, the sooner we can go back to my room and relax for the rest of the evening.”
He didn’t argue. I took a few bites of salad and set it aside to pour the cake batter into three circular pans. Another few bites, and the meatloaf was done.
“Careful,” I said, plating a steaming, aromatic slice and handing it to Chevalier. “It’s hot.”
He took the plate from me and set it on the counter beside him, and then he hopped down to the floor. I glanced at him questioningly as I cut myself a slice. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes,” he said, seizing me by the waist and lifting me into the air.
“Chevalier! What are you doing?”
He set me on the counter with a teasing smirk. “Sit and eat.”
“But the cake-”
“Stay,” he ordered. I pouted at him but picked up my salad bowl and took another bite. He chuckled and turned back to the cake pans, putting them into the ovens before he picked up my plate of meatloaf and handed that to me. Then he resumed his seat on the counter beside me.
“I still have three more cakes to make,” I said, fighting to hold my pout when a smile wanted to take over.
“We won’t be alone much longer,” he replied. “And Yves will be here to help you. Baking can wait.”
I couldn’t hide it anymore. The smile broke free, widening when he hummed his appreciation of the meatloaf.
“Not bad for commoners' food, is it?"
ns 18.68.41.179da2
