Artem pressed his phone to his ear as he ducked through the doors of the Draakonriik’s embassy. “My sweet,” he replied, nodding to the security personnel guarding the reception area. A smile tugged his lips at the sound of his daughter’s clumsy fingers slipping on the cell phone. “Did you miss me already? I’ve only been gone an hour.”
Emilia made the funny breathing sound all over-excited children seemed to make. “Um, I had a question.”
Shocker.
His daughter was as intelligent as her mother, which meant there was hardly a minute of the day that went by without a question. Normally she peppered Paloma with them as they huddled up in her lab, all cozy in front of the monitors, but sometimes she liked to pick up the phone to ask her father something.
It seemed to be happening more often lately, but he couldn’t complain. It was a privilege to be so loved by his child.
I can only hope I get as lucky with our second.
“You know I love when you call me, but I’m on my way into the office, my sweet,” he warned her. “I have an important meeting in a few minutes. If your question is a quick one?—”
“IknowI’m not s’pposed to use the oven,” she began in probably the most alarming way possible, “but if I wanna make a cake, how do I do that?”
Artem nearly stumbled in the hall outside his office. Sending a reassuring look to the staff who caught his odd movement, he ducked his head and hurried into his office. Speaking quickly, he demanded, “Is anything on fire, Emilia?”
“No,”she drew out. “I didn’t use the oven yet!”
A small sigh of relief escaped him. “Good. No ovens. Not after last time.”
“I remembered!”
“I’m happy to hear it,” he soothed. “If you want something, you should ask your mama. She’ll help you when she has a moment.”
“Mama’s in bed,” Emilia explained in that perfect little voice. “We were gonna make paper moons for the living room, but she doesn’t feel good.”
Artem winced. The urge to be back home in the nest, tending to his pregnant mate was a nearly insurmountable force inside him. Breathing deeply, he gently explained, “The baby makes your mama feel sick sometimes. She needs her rest, but?—”
“If she throws up three times in a row, I’m s’pposed to call you,” she finished for him. “I know,Isa.She only threw up once and then said she needed a nap.”
Rubbing the back of his clammy neck, he sighed, “Okay, that’s good. I’m sorry, sweet, but your mama can’t give you cake right now. We need to take extra good care of her, and that means letting her rest.”
“I don’twantMama to give me cake,” Emilia huffed. “I wannamakeMama a cake!”
“What?”
“After she threw up, she said she shoulda had cake for breakfast instead of eggs. I checked the fridge but we don’t have it.” What sounded curiously like cabinets opening and closing came through the line. “I ‘membered that Auntie Shiya taught me how to make a cake with flour and sugar and the oven, and then I ‘membered that I’m notallowedto use the oven, andthenI ‘membered you said some things can be cooked in the microwave. Can you tell me how?”
Letting out an incredulous chuckle, he confirmed, “How to make a cake in the microwave for your mother?”
“Yeah!”
Artem’s chest squeezed hard. “I’m sure your mama would love that, but how about I bring home a cake from the city? The bakeries are full of them for the holiday. We can share it when I come home. I’ll only be a few hours.”
Emilia paused. Speaking in a soft, confused voice that never failed to get her exactly what she wanted, she replied, “But… she threw up breakfast. She needs to eat now,Isa.What if the baby makes her sick again?”
Then I’ll leave this damn meeting and fly home as fast as possible,he thought, rubbing his face.Who cares about a Burden’s Moon luncheon with the sovereign? I have better things to do.
But in his heart, he knew that wasn’t what Emilia really wanted. She was a giver, just as her mother and father were. Taking care of the people she loved was ingrained in her DNA. She didn’t want him to rush home to solve the problem because she’d already figured it out.
And as they’d learned, allowing her to participate and help take care of Paloma helped her feel more in control of the uncertain situation that was preparing for a new sibling. If she could make her mother feel better, Emilia wouldn’t worry quiteso much, and that was more important than the state he’d find his beautiful kitchen in when he returned home.
“Okay,” he said, crossing the room to deposit his briefcase on his desk. “I’m going to need you to get a piece of paper and a pen.”
By the time he returned home, snow had begun to blanket the spiky tips of trees and the land around their roost. The sun hadn’t set yet, but the sky was a deep, dark blue behind the thick clouds. A storm was brewing.
Like always, the scent of it in the frigid air brought back the best memories of his life.
