Page 19 of Princesses & Pastries
"Excellent," Martina says before leading us into a more in-depth discussion about the various dishes. I'm mostly here to give input about what my family will like for the celebrations. I'm surprised by how easily the other chef from Wafeland is taking my input, but he seems fairly at ease with it. Maybe someone in his household has the same position as I do.
Marion doesn't say much, but the scratching from beside me lets me know that she's still making notes, presumably so that she can brief the steward on any updates he needs to know about. I won't pretend to know much about that part of how her job, or even mine, works.
Martina calls an end to the meeting, bowing to me before she leaves to head back out into the kitchen. The others follow her, each of them saying something to me as they pass, though Nate's father seems a little off.
My private secretary looks over to Nate, who is the only other person left in the room besides us. Marion clears her throat and dips into a small bow. "I'll take my leave, Your Highness."
I nod, ultimately dismissing her, and she slips away, leaving me alone with Nate.
"Thank you for backing me up about the cheesecake," I say to Nate. "I don't think your father wanted to make it."
He chuckles and leans against the wall beside me. "He didn't. And he's not happy that he's been overridden."
I frown, thinking back over the conversation to see if I can pinpoint exactly what makes Nate think that. I suppose he did look a little frustrated. "Is it going to be a problem?"
"I doubt it. He just doesn't like change."
"That isn't surprising. Veronica and Artie were complaining the other day that desserts haven't been as varied since you left, and they're looking forward to having something different again."
He raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"They're not wrong. Your father's desserts are delicious, but he makes the same five or six over and over again."
"That's one way of putting it," Nate responds. "But I was more wondering about the fact that you were talking to your siblings about me."
"They recognised your writing," I respond. "Veronica was disappointed that you didn't send any stroopwafels."
"So if I want to get on your sister's good side, then I need to make her stroopwafels?" he checks.
"She did say that you could teach me instead."
"That can be arranged. Luckily, I brought a waffle iron to give to you already."
My eyes widen. "You did?"
"I figured that if I knew you had a good one, I could send you recipes that need one."
"That's sweet," I respond, my voice cracking as I say the words.
"But?"
I shake my head. "It's just reminded me that we've not got long together."
He reaches out and brushes a hand against my arm. It's more physically affectionate than we've been in the past, but I like it. It feels right to interact with him like this. "We'll make the most of it, Evie," he promises.
Tears sting at the corners of my eyes. "I like it when you call me by my name."
"What?"
"You called me Evie."
"I always call you Evie," he points out. "Unless other people are around."
"I know. I just...I like it. Only my family calls me Evie."
There's something about the way he's looking at me that makes me feel like the moment is important, but I can't quite work out what it means.
"Not many people call me Nate anymore either," he says. "It's mostly Chef Matthews, and sometimes Nathaniel."
