How annoying.
“On that note,” said the prince, victoriously, “I propose we have breakfast together, since we’re already up.”
Sephia only just kept herself from cringing at the suggestion.
She couldn’t cringe; she needed to do this. She needed to spend more time with her target, both to learn more about himandto make certain he wasn’t growing too suspicious of her.
The only problem was herownsuspicions.
She still didn’t entirely trust the food being served in this palace; the only reason she hadn’t starved yet was because a package had arrived for her the day after she came to Solturne Hall, and—to her great surprise—the king had allowed her to have that package. It had been from Nora. And her little sister had been smart enough to include a few edible delights along with a letter and a few other reminders of her true home.
She couldn’t rely on that small stash of food forever, though.
“Well?” he pressed.
“Fine,” she agreed. “But only under one condition.”
He looked disgruntled—likely because he wasn’t used to other people making the rules. After a moment, however, he gave her that curious look of his and asked, “And what is this…condition?”
“I want to cook it.”
He looked almost as mortified as he had on the day they’d first met, when she’d suggested bringing her own luggage to Solturne Hall.“That isn’t…necessary.”
“I know it isn’t.”
“I have perfectly capable cooks. If there are certain instructions you feel compelled to give, it’s only a matter of directing—“
“Yes, but Ienjoycooking for myself. And for others.”
“Did you not have enough servants to do such things for you back in the Central Palace?”
“I did.”
He still appeared skeptical.
“But I was a better cook than most of them.”
He scoffed.
“You don’t believe me? Allow me to prove it, why don’t you?”
He lifted a brow at the competitive slant her tone had taken on. “Very well,” he said, yawning again. Perhaps he was just too tired to argue for once. It was still strange to her, seeing him so bedraggled and so much less…severe. She had been starting to think he never let his guard down, even to sleep.
This is the perfect opportunity to get closer to him— while that guard is down.
“Oh, and one more condition,” she said.
His gaze tracked to the ceiling, as if petitioning some heavenly being for strength.
“You have to cook with me.”
He shook his head, though it seemed to be more in disbelief than refusal.
“Unless you’re afraid you won’t be able to keep up with me?” she prompted.
“I’m terrified.”
“Don’t worry; I’m an excellent teacher.”
