Page 163 of The Call of Crimson
I contemplate it for a moment. “Do I get to eat any?”
“No,” she says flatly.
“Ugh, fine. Almond, I guess.”
“Good choice. That’s one of my favorites.” She drops a sack of flour next to the bowl and hands me a measuring cup. “Start with one and a half cups of flour. Mix it with a teaspoon of the baking soda.”
I follow her instructions, mixing and combining ingredients until a sticky dough forms.
As I begin rolling the balls onto a sheet, she asks, “What are some of the traditions in Rimor?”
“We don’t have anything on quite this large scale, but we do have the kitchens prepare food and send it out to those most in need.”
“You only do that around the solstice?”
“I never really agreed with it, but yes.” I scrunch my nose at how inattentive that makes us sound. “We only ever seemed to help when the solstice came.”
Rowina pours batter into a tin baking cup, some of it spilling over the edge. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit… selfish?”
A few months ago, her comment would have irritated me. But seeing how Prudia operates, how the royal family actually serves its people, has changed my perspective. It opened my eyes to the shortcomings in my own kingdom and how willfully ignorant I’d been.
“Yes.” I frown. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Does your family have any traditions?”
“Elijah and I always sneak away for a snowball fight.” I smile fondly at the deluge of memories. “Sometimes we let the twins join, but usually it’s just us. No matter what, we always end the evening with a card tournament. My family, the twins, and even some of the staff gather in the library for a game, or several, where we bet using candies and baked goods.”
“What a wonderful way to honor the goddess Revna.” Rowina pauses, scrunching her nose. “So… you love the snow?”
“Hardly,” I laugh. “I detest it. But I tolerate it for the chance to kick Elijah’s ass. We’ve done it since we were ten.”
Sadness, sharp and sudden, hits me when I realize I’ll be missing our snowball fight for the first time in eighteen years.
Rowina must sense the shift in my emotions because she reaches over and takes my hand, rubbing the back of it in gentle reassurance. “Perhaps we can incorporate some of your traditions with our own this year.”
“I’d like that.” I pause, glancing at her. “It’s still so strange how easily you read me.”
“It’s the Fae blood; it makes our Gifts stronger. Keep training with Ayden, and you’ll build stronger mental defenses.”
I plop the last cookie onto the sheet. “I think this is ready to go in.”
“Perfect timing. These muffins are as well.” She swipes her finger through some batter that’s spilled over the edge and slips it into her mouth.
“That’s not fair. Why do you get to taste test, but I don’t?”
“You want a taste?” She gives me a coy grin, then covers her finger in leftover batter and holds it out to me. “Here.”
My cheeks warm as I debate whether it’s worth it to take her offer. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t think twice. But there is always a double meaning with her, and she lives to rattle me.
Fuck it.
I wrap my lips around her finger, licking off the excess batter. It lasts no more than a few seconds, but the satisfied smirk on her face burns into me.
I retreat, looking for a towel to clean my hands, only for her to catch my wrist.
“My turn,” she whispers, pulling my dough-covered hand toward her mouth.
“Absolutely not,” I laugh nervously, yanking my hand away.
