Page 28 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

Sunlight warmed my skin, shining in through the big windows with their blue and silver stained glass panes.

Thankfully, the hearth was empty, no flames flickering from it. I was already sweating from the heat of the oven and not sure I could handle any more.

“You know, that is my job,” Elowyn said from behind me. The castle chef stared at me, her arms crossed, her thick brown hair peeking out of the tall chef hat she wore. “I don’t think King Lor will like you being down here, Your Majesty.”

That was exactly the point. I thought of the last time he’d found me in the kitchen, years ago, when we were first married. It had irked him to no end to see me in here, and I knew he thought this was beneath me. So today, he was going to have to join me.

I shot a look at the door like at any minute Lor might appear. I’d asked Meera to give the invitation to his advisor, but I didn’t know if he would actually come. My entire plan of getting him to realize how inadequate a king he was hinged on him accepting my invitations.

Elowyn came to a stand beside me. “How do you know how to make bread?”

I gave her a look, and her round green eyes widened. “Right.” She squeezed her eyes shut, cheeks flushing. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I actually wasn’t a kitchen slave,” I said. “But I did learn to bake bread from one of the Fair Folk who was.”

She’d been like a mentor. Almost like a mother figure. She was long dead now, far older than me.

I continued to knead the dough, flipping it over and digging into it with my knuckles. “I used to sneak into the kitchen and watch Olaya make all sorts of dishes. Stews, stuffed meats, pies. I wanted to do something for the Fair Folk to raise their spirits, so when everyone was sleeping, I’d sneak into the kitchen, make bread, and deliver it to all the slaves in the castle.”

Elowyn swallowed, eyes filling with tears. “That’s really beautiful. It’s what I love about food, you know. How it brings people together, how it brings joy.”

I nodded, thinking about how everyone would wake up to a little loaf of bread at their feet, a little like magic. Castle actually helped me deliver it. I’d finish a loaf and it would disappear and reappear where it was meant to.

I hadn’t made this recipe in a long, long time, and I stared at the dough, memories of my time in the kitchen flooding me, when I’d be surrounded by other Fair Folk as they chattered and cooked. We’d share stories, laugh, comfort each other. Now it was just me in here. I wasn’t even sure how to approach the other Fair Folk about something like this. Not sure they’d understand. This world still felt new to me, but not to them.

“Is this really what you want to be doing?” Elowyn leaned against the table next to me. “Do you enjoy cooking?”

I sighed, my fingers pausing.

“It became a tradition, one that I love. Maybe baking or cooking isn’t my favorite thing in the world, but I do love being able to raise the spirits of my people.”

Elowyn gestured to the dough. “You know Liam and I can do this. If you want to reinstate a tradition from your people, we can help.” She gave a soft laugh. “I’m sure you have more important things to be doing than toiling away down here.”

I sighed. Not her too. She was starting to sound like Lor.

“You know we haven’t really gotten a chance to know each other,” Elowyn said softly. “I don’t see you at any of the gatherings or community events or even just out and about in town.”

“You mean all the events for mortals?” I asked, sending her a pointed look.

She frowned. “But there’s plenty of Fair Folk at the events too. In fact, the Fair Folk seem to love our traditions.”

“That’s because they’ve forgotten their own,” I snapped. It was like the Fair Folk had completely assimilated and lost everything that made us who we were in the process. All our traditions, our ways of life, had been lost, and I felt a little lost too.

“Ah,” Elowyn said, understanding lighting her eyes. “Well, if anyone can bring those traditions back, then it’s Aoife the Warrior Queen. Your people love you, you know. They respect you. Revere you.”

It didn’t feel like it. It felt like all they’d done was leave me behind, and I was still trying to figure out my place, how I could be their queen in this world that I didn’t understand.

Elowyn gestured to the big stone oven, taller than me, its bottom a huge base of stone with an iron door for the coals, the oven above where bread could be placed. “Castle already has the oven heating up for you. It only does that for those it likes.” She winked.

“You started without me,” a deep voice said, and I looked over to see Lor leaning against the doorway. I didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, what he’d heard.

He nodded at Elowyn, who dipped her head. “Your Majesty.” Then she scurried past him and out of the kitchen.

As usual, his face was a mask, unreadable as he approached me, wearing his typical black leather trousers and white linen shirt tucked in, the top buttons undone to show his muscled chest and thick curls of hair.

“You’re late,” I said as he came to a stand by me.

“That’s because I had to cancel my inspection of road repairs to accept your invitation. You couldn’t check the calendar before scheduling this?”