Page 4

I lean over the book Arthur gave me and try to make sense of the words on the page. If I have a book of recipes in front of me, or anything that talks about the history of cakes and pastries in the various kingdoms, I can find myself enthralled for hours. Anything else, and reading is just painful.

But I'm determined to learn about my egg.

If the delegation from Shengda ever chooses to return, I want to be able to tell them that I did everything I could to ensure that the egg hatched and the dragon is healthy.

I know it might not hatch even if I do everything right, but I certainly don't want to do anything wrong .

A familiar knock sounds on the door to my chambers and I jump up to go answer it, completely ignoring the book. Nate stands on the other side with a piece of paper in his hand and a curious expression on his face.

"Where's your lady's maid?" he asks.

"I said she could start her break early," I respond. "She was breathing too loudly, and I know she was bored watching me attempt to read." I gesture for him to step inside.

"You know how to read."

"Not books about dragons, apparently," I mutter.

He laughs. "Where did you even get one?"

"From Arthur. It's actually been helpful, I just find it dreadfully boring." I wave for him to come and look at it. "I think this is my egg." I tap a drawing of a green egg with ridges a little like the one in the oven.

"It does look like it," he agrees. "It's a green oak dragon. What does that mean?"

"They make their nests in oak trees," I say, pointing to another drawing. "It isn't a species that's native to Shengda. But I don't know what that means in terms of them giving me it as a gift."

"I don't think it has to mean anything," Nate responds, stepping back and leaning against the wall so he could face me. "We have peacocks here," he points out.

I frown. "So?"

"They're not native, but there are so many of them, you'd think they were. Maybe it's the same for green oak dragons? They might not be native to Shengda, but lots of them live there."

"Huh, I never thought about that." I look back at the drawing in the book. "I suppose it does make sense. Shengda is known for its people's dragon keeping."

"They're known for a few other things too," Nate says.

"Oh?"

"Want a look?" He holds the paper he's holding up.

"What is it?" I ask, eagerly taking it from him. I know there's only one thing he's going to act like that about.

"It's a recipe," he responds. "It turns out that Lady An is quite particular and brought one of her chefs with her. It took a little bit of coaxing, but she gave me a recipe when I promised her that I'd give her mine for apple tarts. Apparently, Her Ladyship has taken quite a liking to them."

"What's it for?" I ask, scanning down the page and trying to work it out.

"It's called a bao. It's a kind of dumpling," he says.

"It's nothing like our dumplings," I respond.

Nate nods in agreement. "She told me some of the fillings they often use.

There's a pork filling that's traditional, but can take a long time to make.

We should be able to replicate it with some of the roast pork from yesterday though.

Or you can make them sweet with a custard filling, but she hasn't given me the recipe for that one yet, I'm hoping I can ask her later. The choice is yours."

"Both."

He laughs. "I should have known you'd say that."

"Am I that predictable?"

"Predictable enough that I might have used your name to get Chef Martina to give me the ingredients we need to try it out," he admits.

"You are brilliant," I announce.

"I'm glad you think so, because if anyone found out that you didn't actually want the ingredients, I could lose my job."

"I won't tell a soul. And if it helps, I do want the ingredients, so it's more that you knew exactly what I wanted before I wanted it."

He flashes me a grin that says he knew I was going to say that. "It does make it much easier to learn when I have a princess wanting to bake with me."

"I'm glad I can help. When can we make this?"

"Dinner is in an hour, so after that?" he suggests.

"I hope you realise that I'm going to be counting down the moments until I can sneak out of the dining hall."

"I wouldn't expect any less," he says with a lot of affection in his voice.

"How is the dragon egg getting along?" I ask.

"Well," he promises. "It did give my father a fright when he saw it this morning, he thought something had gone wrong in the oven overnight."

I cover my mouth to stop my laughter from escaping. "I'm sorry. I should have thought to send him a message about it."

Nate shrugs. "As soon as he realised it was yours, he shrugged it off and went back to baking pies for the picnic."

"Maybe I should have gone after all, your father's pork pies are delicious."

"There are still some left," he assures me. "And it's not going to be the last time he makes pork pies."

"True. They really are delicious. Do you know how to make them?"

He nods.

"Can you teach me? Not tonight, I know we have something else to try tonight. But later?"

"If that's what you want. It's a different kind of pastry than we've made before."

I nod. "Hot water crust, I read about it in one of the books I found in the library."

"I'm surprised there is one on pies there."

"Mama wants a copy of every book that has ever been printed in Falhaven," I respond. "She believes it's the only way to preserve the full history of the kingdom."

"Ah, so that's how you manage to get all of your books on baking."

"The ones from Falhaven, yes. Though I wish I had a library with all the books on baking from the other kingdoms."

"Perhaps you should say as much in front of some ambassadors, then they might start bringing you recipe books instead of dragon eggs as gifts," he says.

My eyes widen. "Do you think that would work?"

"I was joking, Evie."

"But it could work." I tap my fingers against the wood of my desk, feeling comfort from the repetitive motion.

"If it does, I'm not going to complain," he admits. "You never know what we might be able to find when it comes to new techniques."

"I'll see what I can do," I promise.

"All right. Well, I'd better get going, if Father discovers I've snuck out of the kitchens this close to dinner, I'll pay for it."

"Sorry."

"My choice," he points out.

Even though I know that's true, I still don't want him to get into trouble on my account. "I'll see you after dinner?"

He nods. "I look forward to it."

I watch him slip out of the door, already missing his presence, even if I have something to look forward to.

I look down at the recipe he gave me. I should add it to my own recipe book so that he can have this one back.

He always says that I can keep them, but I know he has a collection of written recipes like this, and he has every reason to want to keep this one.

I set aside the book on dragons. There'll be plenty of time to read it before the egg hatches, and pull my leatherbound journal to me.

I flip to the first blank double-page spread and prepare to transcribe the recipe.

Tomorrow, I'll add a drawing of what we make tonight, along with my own notes about what could be improved, and other flavours that might go along with it.

I'm sure no one will ever care about my thoughts as a baker, but I enjoy looking back over the recipes I've made and seeing how I've come.

I just wish I'd started the journal sooner, as I'm missing a couple of years' worth of baking exploits from before I did.

I suppose there's nothing that can be done about that, I just have to ensure that I don't miss any of them yet to come.