Page 26 of Princesses & Pastries
"Oh." I look at the steam rising from the teapot. There are too many thoughts racing through my head for me to pick which one to go with. The fact that he remembers that I suffer badly at this time of the month goes beyond what I expect, but there's also the fact that this tea might help me, and that makes me want to drink down the entire teapot's worth in a very unprincesslike amount of time.
"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to," he says quickly when I don't respond beyond the one word.
"I do," I correct quickly.
He heads over to take a seat beside me and picks up the pot, pouring some of it into a cup. He's about to set it down when he pauses and pours a splash into a second cup.
"What are you doing?" As far as I know, he's not likely to be plagued by the same affliction as I am.
"Proving it isn't poisoned," he responds, picking it up and taking a sip.
"You don't have to do that. I know you're not going to poison me."
He shrugs. "Maybe I've changed over the past five years."
"I'm sure things about you have," I respond. "And things about me have."
"But not the one day a month you refuse to talk to anyone." He says it with a lot of affection, more than I should probably deserve, considering how snappy I can get when I have to deal with pain.
"We both know it's better for everyone if I don't. I'd like to think my filter has gotten better over the years, but the pain makes it impossible to remember that I'm not supposed to just say what I'm thinking." As if my body knows what we're talking about, a hard cramp spreads through my stomach. "Argh. This tisane better be magic," I mutter.
Nate laughs and takes a sip from his cup. "Well, I'm not keeling over dead."
"Always a good sign." I take a sip of my own. It's herby and I can't say I'm a huge fan of the taste, but it's not the worst thing I've ever tasted, and if it works to help against the pain, then it might be worth it. The warmth settling in my stomach is enough to already help a little bit, though I think some of that is also coming from Nate's thoughtfulness.
"I also brought some truffles," he says. "I made them for you when your private secretary said you were indisposed for the tasting session for the banquet."
I swallow hard. "You made them for me?"
He clears his throat. "Yes. I remember that time when we were, what, sixteen? You ate a whole box of chocolates while locked in your room for the day, and made yourself sick."
I laugh. "I did. You'd have thought that would put me off them."
"No, I wouldn't. I know how you feel about the textures of things. Once you find one you like, nothing will put you off. Even eating too many of them in one go."
It's impossible to ignore the fuzziness which is growing in response to his words. He knows me better than anyone, and it's nice to have a reminder that the time away from one another hasn't changed that.
"I think you'll like these better, though," he says. "I learned the recipe in Gaullesse from a man who claimed to have learned it from the chef who invented them."
I raise an eyebrow. "You don't believe him?"
"I have no reason not to believe him, but people are always saying that they learned from important people, so it's hard to know who is telling the truth and who isn't."
"Ah, fair enough."
"But it doesn't matter if it's true or not. The recipe is good. As soon as he told me it, I knew you'd love it because of the hazelnuts."
My eyes widen. "I do love hazelnuts."
"I know." The way he looks at me reminds me of how things were before he left, and it settles something inside me.
"I appreciate it."
"I would have sent you some with a letter, but I didn't know how the chocolate would travel. So I've been holding off until I was able to make them for you myself. At the time, I thought I'd be back in a matter of months." There's a sadness in his voice that even I can't miss.
"You're here now," I whisper, not adding the reality that we both know. He's going to leave again, and it's going to break my heart to watch him go, probably even more than the first time.
To distract myself, I pick up one of the truffles and take a bite. My teeth sink through it, and the sweet-bitter taste of chocolate fills my mouth, followed by something creamier in the centre.
