Page 21 of Princesses & Pastries
"There was. He found out that his daughter, so my great-great aunt or something like that, was having an affair with one of the maids, and didn't want her to have control over the woman's employment if things went badly."
He pauses, an intense expression on his face. "Did they?"
"What? End badly?" I check.
"Yes."
"They got married and had a baby," I say. "So I have to assume it went fine."
"I didn't realise." He wraps his dough in a cloth.
"Probably because you haven't been forced to memorise my family tree," I point out.
"Mmm, true. I'm going to take this to the ice house." He lifts the pastry bundle and heads out of the room.
I sigh and look over to where Ember is watching from the top of the oven. There's a strange feeling within me. I can't even start to place what's causing them.
Nate returns before I can get any further with trying to untangle them, and puts a cold block of pastry on the table, along with what looks like a bowl of custard.
"What's that for?" I ask.
"Well, the Graaf and Gravin aren't here, so I thought we could make half of the pastry into croissants, and half into pain-aux-raisins."
"They don't seem very Wafelandian," I say. "Aren't they Gaullessian pastry?" I wish my command of languages was better, but I've always struggled with it.
"They are. One of the reasons I got the job is because I trained in Gaullesse, that's where the previous pastry chef working for Prince Willem came from, and the family gained a taste for both," Nate says. "I don't mind it. I find making croissants soothing."
"That's because you haven't made them with me yet," I joke.
"Not true at all. I think I'll like making them even more, because I'll think about your impatience."
"I'd rather you think good things about me," I respond.
"I do that too," he promises.
I meet his gaze, something I don't do with many people, but when it comes to Nate, it feels natural. Like it's something we should be doing.
He clears his throat. "Croissants," he says.
"Erm, yes." I look down at the dough in front of us. "I don't think I did too badly at this part when I was making them."
"I assumed as much," Nate responds. "Your problem with patience isn't going to impact this part."
"I wish I were better at it," I admit. "I don't mean to be impatient."
"You're a princess, Evie. You haven't really had to wait for anything in your life," he points out.
"I waited for you to come back," I whisper.
"Impatiently," he teases.
I laugh without meaning to. "I'm not that bad."
"Having seen other royals in action, I'll agree," he teases. "So if you think you've got this part sorted, why don't you make the croissants?" He holds out a rolling pin to me.
"Are you sure?"
"We're baking together," he reminds me. "You can roll it out, then we'll both shape the croissants. But don't forget to split the dough in half first."
