I reach into the pot and take one of the chocolates. I bite into it, aware of Nate's attention on me as I do. The chocolate is that perfect balance of sweet and not sweet, and the tang of the raspberries in the smooth ganache is delightful. "It's delicious," I assure him. "You should have one."
He picks up one of the chocolates and bites into it, somehow smearing some over his cheek.
I let out a small giggle without meaning to.
"What?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
"You have chocolate on your cheek." I reach out to wipe it away without thinking, ending up so close to him that I feel like I can count his eyelashes. Which is improbable.
I meet his gaze, seeing an emotion that I can almost name.
"Nate," I whisper.
"Yes, Evie?"
"I..."
Someone clears their throat and I spin around to see Nate's father in the doorway. "Your Highness," he says with a dip of his head.
"Chef Matthews," I respond, trying not to feel too self-conscious about just how close to Nate I'm standing, especially knowing that his father would rather we weren't friends.
"I came to ask about tomorrow's bread," he says to his son.
Nate reaches out to touch my elbow. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, this is something I should deal with."
"Oh, yes, of course." I hate it when he addresses me formally, even more than I used to. But I know that it's also necessary given the circumstances.
He steps back and takes a bow. "Your Highness."
"Chef Matthews," I respond with a nod.
He disappears off with his father, along with any chance I have of confessing tonight. It's just going to have to wait until I see him again. Though considering we're going to be with my father tomorrow, maybe the timing isn't going to be right there either.
But I'm going to have to decide on something, because it's clear that this is going to plague me until I tell Nate how I feel, and I'm not sure how much more of that I can take.
Chapter 15
I straighten out my dress and try not to think about the way the cuff is cutting at my wrist. I'm not sure what's wrong with it because it wasn't like this the last time I wore it. I'm going to have to ask Betsy if she can do something about it.
Footsteps sound from down the corridor, and I turn to see Nate approaching. He's dressed smartly, but like he's come from the kitchens, which makes sense. He's probably already working on preparations for dinner.
He looks around, but as we're alone, doesn't bow, making me feel weirdly giddy. It's one thing when he's familiar with me in the kitchens, or my room, but it's another when we're in the public part of the castle.
"I'm glad you came," I say.
"I'm not about to shun my employer now I have a scheduled meeting with the King," he points out. "And I also didn't want you to have to do this alone, I know you're worrying about it."
I nod, grateful for his support. "I just don't want to get this wrong. Everyone says that all I know is food. But it turns out that there's politics in food that I didn't even think about. So what does that mean for me knowing it?"
"Evie, you're doing fine," he assures me. "We're here because you learned something about it and want to check with your father and brother because they're the ones who spend most of their time working with foreign policy together," he reminds me, making me glad that I told him about Artie's position helping my father meet with ambassadors in one of my letters.
"Is it not somewhat ridiculous that we're going in to meet my father to talk about lemons, though?"
"Perhaps a little bit. But your job, and mine to an extent, is to make sure that the visiting delegation aren't insulted and leave without signing the treaty we need as a kingdom."
"You're secretly good at this," I say.
"I have spent a lot of time with a princess, it's easy to pick some things up," he responds. "Baking isn't all we've learned together. You've taught me a lot about diplomacy, even if you don't think you're very good at it yourself."
