"You must forgive me if I'm wrong, but I read the newspapers, Your Highness," he says. "Gaullesse and Someil don't have a treaty between them at the moment, and this visit is to renegotiate the treaty with Falhaven. It would seem unwise to showcase an ingredient that may cause insult."
"I hardly think that anyone will be insulted by lemons," I respond.
Nate clears his throat and gives me a slight shake of his head. I'm not sure precisely what it means, but I would guess that I need to take some time before committing to this.
"Perhaps I should consult with my father before we confirm it as a dish." I meet Nate's gaze, pleased when he nods. I don't know if I've done precisely what he's thinking, but at least I've managed something.
"Of course, Your Highness," Chef Martina says.
"Thank you. My other suggestion was that we should be following Chef Matthews' lead for what to serve for breakfast," I say, nodding to Nate. "He was recently living in Gaullesse and will know what the delegation is used to."
"That is an excellent idea," Chef Martina says. "Do you have the staff necessary, or do you need me to redirect some?" she asks Nate.
"Perhaps an extra baker would be good," he says. "But my sous chef should be arriving along with the servants for the delegation. She's travelling with them."
A weird feeling worms its way through me as he mentions the mysterious sous chef. He hasn't told me much about her other than that I'll like her, but I have no idea what that truly means.
"Excellent. Keep me informed of what you need," Chef Martina tells him.
I listen to the rest of the conversation while Marion takes notes, the scratch of her pen cutting through the sound in the room. It's not ideal, but at least I'll be able to look over everything when it's quiet in my room later. Then I'll know what I need to take to my father.
Chapter 9
I'm a little nervous about leaving the castle to attend the theatre with Nate, but no one has explicitly told me that I can't, and it isn't as if I've been trying to hide it. Nor am I trying to evade my guards. I know they'll come along with me, there's really no avoiding them.
I reach the courtyard behind the kitchen, where one of the plain black carriages we own is waiting, along with Nate. His suit isn't as opulent as some of the ones I've seen at court, but it's clearly good quality, and tailored to fit him in a way that his clothing didn't used to be. I take a moment to truly appreciate how good he looks, getting a curious look in response.
"Are you not going to greet me?" he asks.
I clear my throat. "Sorry, I was just thinking that you look like a gentleman."
He tugs on his waistcoat and gives me what almost seems like a shy smile. "Thank you. It's my finest suit. It's second-hand, but I made a wedding cake for a tailor in return for him fitting it to me properly."
"Well, you look very handsome. You would never know that the suit hadn't been made for you in the first place."
"Thank you. You look beautiful too."
"You can't see my dress," I point out, touching the opening of my cloak.
"I'm sure your dress is very fine, but it's not why you look beautiful."
My heart flutters a few times, even though I know I should be keeping it under control. "Shall we? We don't want to miss the curtain."
He laughs. "You don't think they'd hold it for you?"
"They don't know I'm coming," I remind him.
"Ah."
The coachman opens the carriage door for us, but Nate holds out his hand to me instead so that I can use him to support me as I get into the carriage. I place my hand on his, meeting his gaze as I do and feeling all kinds of things in the air. We've touched plenty of times over the years, but somehow, this one feels different. Perhaps it's because we're both wearing gloves.
I tear my attention away and climb into the carriage, with Nate following behind and closing the door. I reach up to tap on the roof to let the coachman know that we're ready to depart.
The carriage lurches forward, and I reach out to steady myself on the side of it.
"I didn't ask what play it is we're going to see," Nate says.
"Oh, it's a comedy of errors," I respond. "A mistaken identity at a royal court. I'm not sure more than that. Perhaps I should have considered that more. You never said whether you prefer to watch comedies, or tragedies, or romances..."
