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"How do you have all this?" I ask. Again. "In the middle of nowhere?"

"We plan ahead," Kaelen says. That's what he always says.

I narrow my eyes at his back. Three ordinary lords should not have a pantry fit for a king, hidden on a mountaintop. But he hands me a basket of onions and a bundle of herbs, and I'm too excited about the feast to care.

Zarek takes charge of organizing. Of course he does.

Rhydian appoints himself official taste tester.

"Somebody has to," he says, and pops a piece of cheese into his mouth.

Kaelen's in charge of the actual cooking. A huge bird to roast, stuffed with herbs and apples. Potatoes and parsnips to go around it. Fresh bread. Creamy mushrooms. A pie.

I chop vegetables. I stir sauces. I set the table with the good plates Zarek digs out of a cupboard, plates with thin gold rims that are much too fine for a hunting lodge.

And Rhydian steals. He steals constantly. A carrot. A piece of bread. A spoonful of sauce, straight out of the pot while Kaelen's back is turned.

"If you take one more thing," Kaelen says, without even turning around, "I'll cut off your fingers."

"You wouldn't."

"I have a very sharp knife."

I'm laughing too hard to chop.

And I'm learning something. Teasing Kaelen is quickly becoming my favorite thing in the world.

I lean against the counter and watch him rub butter and herbs over the bird. He's so careful about it. So precise. His huge hands move like he's done this his whole life.

"You know," I say solemnly, "you'd make a wonderful chef. If you ever got tired of being a lord."

Kaelen grunts.

"I'm serious."

"Oh, absolutely," Rhydian says. "He could open a little tavern somewhere. Glare at the customers until they tell him the food's delicious."

"He'd have to talk to people," Zarek points out, dry as dust. "He'd hate it."

"I'd hate all of you in my kitchen," Kaelen says, scowling. "I already do."

But I walk over and go up on my toes and kiss his cheek.

"I mean it," I tell him softly. "You're amazing at this. I'm very impressed."

Kaelen goes still. And then, slowly, a deep red flush creeps up his neck. Over his jaw. All the way to his ears.

He's blushing.

Kaelen, the biggest, scariest man I've ever met, is blushing because I kissed his cheek and said he was a good cook.

Rhydian grabs the counter, laughing. "Look at him. Look at him!"

"I'll throw you in the snow," Kaelen growls.

"Worth it. Completely worth it."

By sundown, the cabin smells so good I could cry. We carry everything to the table together.