“Ten chapters?” Nin exclaimed. “Are you serious?”
“Your orders have been given, and I expect you to be ready to be tested on what you read in the morning,” he said, turning on his heel, leaving her no room to argue. An enraged grunt of protest echoed behind him, but he slid behind the concealed door without a word.
It wasn’t until he was in his quarters that the full extent of his exhaustion crashed over him. Sinking into his chair, he rubbed his temple, praying for a miracle.
Chapter seven
An array of silverware gleamed beneath the chandelier’s light. There were so many pieces, Nin wasn’t sure where to begin. Usually, she was given a spoon and a fork and left to dig in. Today, however, Cedric was teaching her dining etiquette.
A bowl of broth steamed in gentle wisps, its savory scent rising with the heat. It glowed like amber, not burned or watered down like she was used to, but simmered to perfection.
Because of her “illness” and to avoid suspicion, she was confined to nutritious broths, light foods, and restricted from indulging in any sweet treats. Still, Nin’s mouth watered as she looked at the spread before her. Flaky croissants, apples, and a bowl of sugared violets and candied orange peels tempted her with their glistening honey crystals. Cedric considered them invalid treats, meant to settle the stomach, but to Nin, they looked positively divine.
“You’re drooling,” Cedric said.
Nin snapped her head up, meeting her instructor’s stern expression hovering above her. Blushing, she wiped her face asfast as she could and glanced to her lap to see if any dripped onto her dress.
One of his signature sighs was expelled from his lips as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “A napkin, please. But remember to bring the napkin to your mouth andpat. Do not swipe like you’re mopping your face.”
“Like this?” she asked, giggling as she playfully dabbed her mouth. “Pat, pat, pat.”
“That is much better,” Cedric said gruffly, but a twinge at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. Nin suppressed a grin. One of these days, she was determined she would crack a smile out of him.
“Now,” he said, clearing his throat. He gestured to the dishes in front of her. “What course do you start with?”
Nin beheld her small spread of food, brows scrunched. Cedric had given her a dozen books to read about etiquette, history, names of royals, countries, and titles—her head was like an overstuffed sack with the seams on the verge of bursting.
“The soup?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes,” Cedric said. “Which silverware do you take from?”
“That one?” She pointed to the closest spoon on her right.
“The furthest one,” Cedric corrected.
Another wrong answer among the several she made over the past six days. She frowned, glancing at Lucille, who stood at her place by the wall since dining etiquette wasn’t her expertise. The woman’s faint smile encouraged her to continue.
Nin dipped the spoon into the broth and brought it to her lips with trembling fingers. Any spill would be unforgivingon her lavender dress, and she would hate to stain the delicate silk. It also fit her frame better since the first time Lucille had laced her up, no longer sagging at the neckline or shoulders. She couldn’t ruin it now.
Don’t slurp. Don’t let it touch your teeth.Don’t mess this up!
The warm broth filled her mouth, and she closed her eyes to savor the taste. A hum of pleasure escaped without her consent. “This is delicious,” she said.
For a moment, Cedric did not correct her.
Nin opened her eyes and met his, and for once it was not filled with disapproval or impatience, but with something unreadable, as though he were studying her in a new way.
Something prickled beneath her skin the longer his gaze lingered. She shifted in her seat as heat crept up her neck.
Whatever had passed between them vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
“Truly?” he asked, surprising her with its softness. “It’s just broth.”
“Not to me,” she said. “Nothing beats a nice broth to fill your belly!”
The samesomethingflickered in his expression before it disappeared into his stoic guard. “You are right to take your time and savor,” Cedric said, “but do not linger or moan. You must never act with any more passion than is necessary.”
“But what if it is delicious? Why can’t I compliment it?” Nin asked, sipping delicately.
