"I didn't come here for refreshments, Evie," he responds. "You seemed out of sorts in the kitchen."
"I don't know what you mean," I murmur as I close the door behind him, doing everything I can not to meet his knowing gaze. No one can read me the way that Nate can.
"Then why won't you look at me?"
Despite knowing that I shouldn't, I turn to face him. Concern is written all over his expression. It hurts to see that, but I can't pinpoint precisely why.
"What's going on, Evie?"
"Would you believe me if I said nothing?" I ask, even though I'm fairly sure what his answer is going to be.
"No."
I swallow hard. "It's really nothing," I murmur. "I was going to talk to Veronica about it."
He frowns. "But you don't want to talk to me?"
"There are some things I can't talk to you about." I look away, unable to meet his gaze as I say the words.
"I see." It's impossible to miss the hurt in his voice, even for me.
"I'm making a mess of this." My voice cracks, and I feel as if I could burst into tears. I should have gone straight to Veronica's room, then I wouldn't have to worry about dealing with this.
Except that it would probably still be a problem even if I could have avoided it for today.
"Was it Camille?" he asks.
I startle. "Why would it be Camille?" Despite all of my efforts to sound normal, my voice comes out as a weird squeak.
"Well, that kind of gave it away. But you also ran away almost as soon as you were introduced to her."
"I wasn't feeling well." It's only half a lie. I wasn't feeling well, but it's not any physical ailment I recognise.
"Can we talk about it?" he asks, moving closer to me.
"I don't know if there's anything to talk about," I respond.
"You'll like her. Camille, I mean. She grew up baking in her grandfather's shop. She was even younger than we were when she started baking." He smiles as he says it.
"Did she teach you recipes?" I blurt out.
"Of course she did. I sent you several of them. We were in Gaullesse to learn."
"And to find future sous chefs."
A pop from the fire breaks through our conversation, and I look over to find Ember basking in the flames and not seeming any worse for wear for me abandoning her in the kitchen. I'll have to make it up to her with extra play sessions tomorrow.
"Is her being my sous chef what this is about?" Nate asks.
I close my eyes. "I don't know."
"Evie..." The way he says my name constricts my heart. It's moments like this that I can almost believe that he feels the same way I do.
I take a deep breath. "It's just change," I say firmly. "Maybe if you tell me about her, then it might make things better."
He doesn't look so sure, but he nods anyway. "Can we sit?"
I nod and take a seat on one of the chairs, and fold my hands on my lap. I think this is the most tense that I've ever felt around him, and I can't say I like it.
