Page 18 of Royal Icing
“Thank you for joining us this morning, ladies. Would you like some tea?”
“Oh, thank you, Your Majesty,” the first woman said with another curtsy.
Ruby let out a small snort, then clapped a hand over her mouth. The queen shot her a look. Even though they were somewhat used to people fawning over their family, some people took it to a whole new level. But Emma wasn’t interested in fawning. If anything, she looked pissed off.
The other woman shot Ruby a look, then surveyed the room. “Thank you so much again for having us, Your Majesties. I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said, striding over to the king. “Maya Farrell.”
The king nodded deeply at her, and she turned uncertainly in the direction of John.
He slid the sunglasses down his nose and appeared to take her in. “Prince John,” he said simply.
Great, they were already careening toward another scandal.
“Would you like us to explain what we brought?” Emma’s voice cut through the awkward silence.
“Please,” the king said, folding up his newspaper and sitting forward to inspect the trays of baked goods that had landed in front of him. Apparently the smell of butter had shaken him from his football-induced stupor.
Leo glanced at his watch.
As lovely as it was to see Emma again, he had a long day ahead. The stage needed to be repaired before the carnival started, he had to deliver a printer to the library and replace some bulbs in the reference section, and there was a rumor thata debilitating storm would hit later in the week. That meant checking that the community kitchen and homeless shelter were well-stocked. The shelters in Avolis would be overrun, and sometimes people in need made their way to the village.
The other baker’s attention shifted back to the table. Emma still refused to look at him.
“So,” Maya said, “we’ve prepared several options for you to try.”
Leo squinted at the use of the word “we.” Unless Maya was out fetching ingredients, Emma had been all alone in the kitchen the night before.
“And, of course, we’re open to suggestion,” Maya continued. “The first is our legendary espresso croissant. It’s the item that put us on the map as a must-visit pastry destination.”
While she spoke, Emma donned a pair of gloves and arranged croissants on plates. She walked around behind them and passed them to each family member. She even did it correctly, so she must have done some googling in the night. Her presence was like a radiant heater as she stood behind him. She smelled like vanilla extract, and her sleeve brushed against his shoulder as she reached. The croissant landed more harshly in front of him than it had for the others.
He bit his lip. He would have to find time to make it up to her. She had saved his life, after all. He should have told her the whole truth.
It was his own fault. It had been intriguing to consort with a beautiful woman who had no idea who he was. She had been so natural and relaxed—apart from the Heimlich, anyway. A far cry from the nervous debutants he usually met.
Maya was still babbling about the croissants and their commitment to using sustainable and conflict-free ingredients as Emma walked back to her side.
Ruby let out a deep sigh from down the table. There was a smudge of espresso powder on her cheek. The queen, who was sampling her pastry with a fork and knife, cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows.
Ruby sat up straighter in her chair. “I think we’re done here, right? We just need like six or seven hundred of these. Do they freeze well?”
Emma smiled, and the queen fired a warning.
“Ruby.”
Oh, right. He should probably try the dessert that Emma had put so much effort into. An unexpected twinge of anxiety hit when he picked up the croissant, and his heart beat faster. He hadn’t eaten anything since the choking incident. Being unable to breathe had been uniquely horrifying. All because he was an idiot who couldn’t chew properly. He took a small, cautious bite and chewed for what felt like an eternity.
It was incredible. The exterior was flaky, buttery, and crispy. The ganache inside was delicately sweet and reminiscent of a cup of espresso enjoyed on the terrace in fall. How did she do it? She pulled a memory out of him that he didn’t even know he had, all with one baked good.
“Ruby’s right,” he said, dabbing a napkin over his mouth. He would swim in that espresso ganache.
Emma’s cheeks tinged pink again, but she avoided eye contact with him. Maya’s gaze was on John, while Emma was fixated on the queen.
The king nodded his approval, and the queen put her fork down.
“And the next selection?” she asked.
One by one, Emma passed out the desserts while Maya gave an explanation. A couple of times, Leo caught Emma shaking her head at Maya, who then quickly changed whatever she wastalking about. The raspberry tart was even better when he wasn’t choking to death on it.
