Marcella barely noticed the time passing, and when Cosimo asked her to stay for dinner, she didn't want to refuse.
Back in Florence, the villa smelled of delicious cooking as soon as they stepped through the portal and back into the lounge room.
"I don't think I'm going to get over the novelty of that," she commented, watching the portal close in on itself. Cosimo picked up the token and slipped it into his pocket.
"The magic is ridiculously tricky, but Valentine seems to have developed a knack for it. I can't say it isn't handy. Go with Bridget. I'm going to check in with the boys," he said and ducked up a set of stairs.
Bridget gestured at Marcella. "Let's go see what Bas is cooking."
"Is he okay?" she asked, pointing where Cosimo had disappeared.
"Oh, yeah. He just doesn't trust that the boys haven't gotten themselves into some kind of trouble while we were away today. He needs to check in that everyone is still alive and has all their limbs," Bridget explained with an easy laugh. "It's been a bit of a crazy year with the dragons waking up properly, and Cosimo's one makes his big daddy patriarch tendencies worse than usual."
Bridget pushed open the door to the kitchen and took a moment to admire her man. Marcella couldn't blame her.
Bas, like the rest of the Greatdrakes, was tall and handsome and completely at ease in his power. It hung around them all like fine capes.
Marcella was getting used to the feel of so much magic in the room, but it was utterly different from her own.
Bas looked up, saw Bridget, and his face broke into a smile so dazzling that even Marcella blushed. He had definitely gotten that smile from his father.
"Hey, baby, how was your day?" he asked, pulling Bridget into a hug and giving her a kiss. It was so easy, so relaxed that Marcella felt a pang of longing.
Had her marriage ever been so affectionate? Maybe in the beginning, when Carlo still thought he could get whatever he wanted out of her. He used to withhold his affection to punish her to the point she never knew if she was going to get a hug or a shove.
Breathe. You haven't had to deal with that shit in a long time now, she reminded herself.
"Can I help with dinner?" Marcella asked. She needed to do something other than dredge up bad memories.
"Sure, that would be great," Bas replied.
Bridget kissed him again. "Have fun. My brain is cooked, and I need to go and lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling for a bit."
"I'll nudge you when food is ready," Bas replied. He dug into one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a clean apron. "Here. I don't want you getting food on yourself."
"Grazie. That's so sweet of you," Marcella said, tying it on. "Now, what can I help with?"
"First things first. You have had a long day." Bas poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her before filling his own.
"Salute." Marcella lifted her glass and tapped it against his. She had a sip and smiled. "You have good taste in wine."
"No. My dad does. I grew up on only the good stuff because he loves wine, especially from the Veneto. I think that's my grandmother's good influence that we are all now benefitting from," Bas replied and picked up a wooden spoon. "I want you to taste this ragu and tell me what's missing. I've never cooked with wild boar before, but I found this recipe and wanted to try it. I can't put my finger on what's wrong with it."
Marcella accepted the spoon with the dark reddish-brown sauce on it. She tasted it and thought for a moment. "You have been slow cooking this all day to get the meat tender, yes?"
Bas nodded. "It's been on for about five hours."
"You need more garlic and herbs. The slow cooking has leeched their flavor out too much."
"I used a ridiculous amount of garlic. I didn't think of it."
"Trust me, it needs more. Always more," she insisted. Bas followed her advice, grated garlic cloves into the sauce, stirred it, and tried it again. "Damn, you were right."
"Told you. That's the problem with slow cooking. You always need to at least double any herbs you might need," Marcella replied.
They fell into easy conversation as Bas put her to work, chopping ingredients for a salad. He was easy to chat to, and Marcella found herself telling him all about the day, including the incident with the statue of Minerva.
"Oof. Dad would have hated that," Bas commented.
