Page 14

I check the instructions in the letter Arthur sent me and turn the corner, heading down to the Falhaven Castle kitchens. I've no idea why he's asked me to meet him here, but it's fun to have him send me a letter and know that I'll be able to see him almost immediately after.

He's standing in front of a large wooden door when I turn the next corner, and I find myself smiling despite not knowing what he has planned. I suppose I don't really need to know, so long as we're spending time together, I don't mind.

I check around to make sure no one is looking and lean in to kiss him. He returns it immediately, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer.

"You came," he murmurs against my lips.

"You did ask me to," I say, holding up the letter.

"You might have decided that you didn't want to," he points out. "Or your aunt could insist on chaperoning you now that she caught me in your sitting room."

I laugh. "I think she's relieved about anything that's taking me outside the rooms for that reason alone.

I told her I was meeting you and she said she would take the opportunity to sleep.

If my parents wanted me to actually be chaperoned, they should have sent someone younger.

" And who cared more. Though maybe part of it is that there's nothing that can go wrong now. We'll be married within a week anyway.

"Fair enough. So, are you ready?"

"I can't say yes, I don't know what we're doing," I remind him.

"I'll show you." He holds out his hand and I slip mine into it, enjoying how warm and comforting it feels, even after a short amount of time physically in the same space as one another.

He pushes open the door, revealing the kitchens behind it.

Loud noises and shouts come from all around as Artie leads me inside, and I step closer to him, a little on edge about being here.

This is something that would never have been allowed in Someil.

My parents would have had servants bar my entrance, but Artie seems fairly at home, especially as he heads through the main kitchen and into what appears to be a smaller one.

"Are you sure we're allowed in here?" I ask.

Artie nods. "Evie said we could use it."

I frown. "What does your sister have to do with the kitchens?"

"Oh, well, this is her kitchen. Kind of. It's actually an extension of the pastry kitchen, but it's only used for big events, so most of the time, it's just Evie using it."

"I didn't realise."

He shrugs. "She loves baking. No one really questions it because it keeps her out of the way."

"Even the kitchen staff?"

"She used to bake with the pastry chef's son before he went away for training a few years ago. Now she comes down here alone most of the time."

I nod and run my hand along the wooden table at the centre of the room. It's a strange thing to consider. Evelyn's position isn't unlike my own at home. She's a princess, but not the princess. But here at Falhaven, she's allowed to come down to the kitchens and bake. With a servant, no less.

There's something comforting about that, even as it makes me question the lines of decorum that I've been taught my entire life.

Artie looks at me, concern written all over his face. "Are you all right, Sola?"

I bite my bottom lip and nod. "This is all just a little strange," I admit. "I had no idea what your kingdom was going to be like."

"We don't have to be down here."

I shake my head. "No, I'm interested in seeing what you have planned."

"I thought we could make some lemon drops," he says. "Evie left us all the ingredients..."

"Artie..."

"What? You said you didn't have more, and had asked your mother to send some."

"I did," I agree. "But that doesn't mean we have to make them."

"It might be fun. I want to see what all of Evie's fuss is about."

I laugh despite myself. "All right, that's a good reason. Do you have a recipe?"

He pulls a sheet of paper from his pocket. "I do."

"Where did you even get that?"

A sheepish expression crosses his face. "After I learned that they were your favourite, I asked every visiting dignitary if they had one."

"Did it work?"

"Not at all." His smile is infectious in the best way.

He's having a good time thinking about all the questions he's asked.

"Eventually, when I was in Porton, I encountered a sailor who knew about my knowledge of animals who came to find me about a ship's cat who was giving birth.

The Captain of the ship happened to be Someilian and I asked him if he knew the recipe.

He gave me it to say thanks for my help with the ship's cat. "

"That's quite an adventure, especially for a prince." And a little heartbreaking for me, because I know from talking to them all that his sisters also have similar stories.

He frowns and steps closer. "Sola?"

I sigh. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound so dismissive."

"You don't," he assures me. "You sound sad."

"It's just so different here. You and your siblings all seem to have your own interests, and your parents encourage that."

"I think it's more that they're resigned to it," he responds. "If they didn't let Evie bake, she'd never be able to make it through official functions."

"Perhaps not, but it's different from back home.

I don't think I've ever been able to choose an actual interest. I love embroidery, but it's not something I chose.

It's just what's acceptable for a princess to do.

It's not like you caring for animals, or your sister baking.

" I look around the room. Now I'm seeing it properly, I can see the evidence of Evie's presence, even down to the dragon bed on top of the oven.

"You can change that," he says, stepping closer to me. "You're here now, we're to be married in less than a week. You can choose to spend your time on whatever interests you."

"What if that is embroidery?" I ask, thinking about how much I've enjoyed making his handkerchief, even if I haven't given it to him yet. It's almost done, I suspect I should be able to finish it tonight.

"Then it is," he says. "There's nothing wrong with that. And if it is what you want, then I'm sure we could get the best lace makers in the kingdom to visit and teach you their tricks."

"Lace and embroidery aren't the same," I point out.

"Then I shall also learn from them so I don't get them mixed up in the future," he promises.

I laugh, realising that even if I don't have the answers, I actually feel a little better just from hearing him talk about this. "I want to watch that."

"It can be arranged."

I lean closer, feeling his breath fanning against my lips and feeling the desire to kiss him rise within me. My eyes flutter closed just as his lips brush against mine.

My whole body reacts in an instant, and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer and sinking into him.

There's something unbelievably freeing about being able to do this where we are.

When I set off from Someil, I thought Falhaven was going to be the same in so many respects.

My mother spent years teaching me the proper etiquette for what's expected of a princess, and a future wife, but not all of that seems to apply here.

It feels like in Falhaven, I can be true to my feelings rather than be stuck in the box my mother created.

I trail my hand over Arthur's arm, feeling the strength within them and marvelling at the care he's always showing when he touches me. I break away from the kiss, but don't pull back from him.

"How long has your sister given us in her kitchen?" I murmur.

"Not long," he admits, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"We could always not make the lemon drops," I respond.

"Is that your way of saying you want to do something else?" he asks.

"Kissing you is fun," I say, placing my hand on his chest and feeling his heartbeat steadily.

"I'm glad you think so. I intend to keep kissing you for a long time to come."

"Other things are fun too." My voice drops even lower as I think about the other night, and how I'd like to experience that again.

His eyes darken and he looks as if he's about to say that we can forget all of this and run off somewhere to spend the afternoon alone. But I don't want to ruin the planning he's put into this.

I put my hand on his chest. "Maybe we should at least try to make the lemon drops," I say, reaching out and taking the recipe from him. It's been scrunched up a little bit. "Especially as you worked hard to get the recipe."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me pleasantly. "If you want."

"I do." I look at the list, surprised to find it's in my language and not Falhavien. "Can you read this?"

"Of course," he says.

"But we always wrote to each other in your language."

"Not at the beginning," he reminds me. "But then you told me that you wanted to write in Falhavien because you wanted to practice before you came to live here."

"Oh, I'd quite forgotten about that. I suppose I didn't realise you could speak my language this well."

"I learned," he responds. " I wanted to be able to speak to you in your native language if you preferred it ." His accent is a little off, but the words are easy to make out, and they send a thrill through me. He learned how to say that for me.

"Thank you," I whisper, putting my hand on his chest.

He puts his own over it and smiles at me, a genuine look of adoration on his face.

"I know it isn't much..."

"You learned to speak my language for me," I counter. "It's a lot."

"You learned mine," he points out.

"Yes, but my parents would have made me regardless of what I wanted," I point out. "It isn't the same."

"My father was happy to hear that I was interested in learning," he promises. "He said that it would make diplomacy easier."

"Mmm, well, your diplomatic skills with this princess have been exemplary so far."

"And I hope they continue to be." He flashes me a charming smile. "So, what do we need?"

"A pan and some sugar, I think. Do we have sugar?"

"Evie said it was in a jar on the left side of the table," he responds, looking over to where that kind of thing seems to be laid out. He lifts one of the lids and looks inside. "Yes, this is it."

"Do you think this pan is the right one?" I ask him, lifting up a heavy metal pan. I don't know what I'm looking for, but it seems like it might be right.

"I actually have no idea," Artie says. "I should have asked Evie for more help."

"We can figure it out," I assure him. "It says that we need to put the water and sugar in the pan and then boil it. Any pan will do, right?"

"I think so." He reaches out to take it from me, setting it on the stove. He seems a little less clueless than he's claiming when he manages to get the flame going quickly enough. I'm certainly impressed. I've never used a stove in my life. Maybe that will change the more time I spend in Falhaven.

Artie uses a scoop to dump some sugar into the pan, following it up with some water.

"I think we should probably get the lemon ready?" I suggest. "It says we need to zest it. But what does that mean?"

He grimaces. "I really should have asked Evie to come supervise," he mutters.

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I wanted to spend time with you," he says in response.

"Oh." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I do like that."

"I'm glad. I want you to spend time with me.

" He leans in and presses his lips against mine.

It's a swift kiss, which it probably should be when there's fire in the room, but I enjoy it all the same.

There's something intimate about a stolen moment like this, and I want to experience many more moments like it.

We break apart. "Aren't we supposed to be watching the sugar?" I murmur, toying with the ruffle of his shirt and barely thinking about the sugar at all.

"Probably." He kisses my nose and leaves me to return to the stove. "Is it supposed to bubble like that?"

I shrug and head over to check out what he's looking at. The sugar certainly seems to be doing something . Whether it's right is a question I'm not sure I'm able to answer.

Footsteps sound and I look towards the doorway, disappointed to find Arthur's sister standing in the doorway. The tiny dragon on her shoulder lifts herself into the air and flies straight over to the oven, settling down in the bed on top of it.

"Oh, I thought you'd be done," Evie says, looking around the kitchen. "But you've barely started."

Arthur shrugs. "We don't have as much experience as you in the kitchen," he points out.

"That's clear." An acrid smell fills the air, and Evie's eyes widen. "What are you doing in here?" She hurries over to the stove, a horrified expression on her face as she looks at the pan.

"Did we do it wrong?" Arthur asks.

"Well, you didn't do anything right," Evie mutters, shutting off the burner and taking the pan away. "If you've destroyed my pan, then you're going to have to get me a new one."

"Doesn't it belong to the kitchen?" Arthur asks.

"Nate sent it to me from Gaullesse," she responds.

I look at Artie in puzzlement.

"Nate's the pastry chef's son I told you about. They're friends."

"Oh." I'm not sure that explains anything, but I don't need an actual explanation to understand that the pan is important, Evie's expression tells me as much.

"What are you trying to make?" Evie asks.

"Lemon drops," I respond, holding up the recipe.

The frustration disappears almost immediately as she eyes the recipe. "If you don't need to make them yourselves, I can do it for you," she suggests.

"I think that might be wise," Arthur says.

I hand over the recipe, almost glad to be rid of it, but also a little sad. It's sweet that Artie wanted us to make them together, but maybe better if we don't spend too much time in the kitchen.

"Now, leave, before you burn down the entire castle." She shoos us out of the room.

"Is that even possible?" I ask Artie.

He shrugs. "It's made of stone, so I'd think not."

"I'm surprised she can also read Someilian." I look back at the closed door.

Artie laughs. "There isn't a recipe Evie can't read. It's the only time she's good at languages."

"Ah."

"So, would you like to go for a walk with me if we're not allowed to be in the kitchen?"

"That sounds wonderful," I respond, looping my arm through his and letting him lead me out of the castle and into the gardens. It doesn't matter to me that we haven't gotten to make lemon drops, I'm just happy that I can spend time with him.