Page 61 of Royal Icing

EMMA

“I wishyou could see my face right now,” Lola said through Emma’s earbuds. “I am fully agog.”

It was late, and the castle kitchen was awash in smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, and chocolate. It was now stocked to Emma’s specifications—trays, piping bags and tips, a double boiler, candy thermometer, dozens of ingredients. The tools to achieve her dreams were spread around her. Now she just needed to figure out how to put all the pieces together.

“How are you feeling about everything?” Lola probed. “You don’t seem as excited as you should be. You do realize that you’re having a secret tryst with a prince, right? And you’re the envy of millions of women on planet earth?”

“It’s surreal. But it’s also bringing up some feelings that I didn’t expect,” Emma admitted.

Leo’s surprise make-out session had been on her mind all day, replaying over and over like a scene in a movie. It hadn’t exactly made planning this elaborate dessert easy.

“What kind of feelings?” Lola asked.

Emma lowered her voice. “I’m scared. Remember how good things were with Dylan in the beginning? It was so exciting, so fresh. I fell head over heels for him, and he pulled the rug outfrom under me and then threw it—and me—into an incinerator the second things got difficult. And I know this isn’t something serious. It can’t be. But it’s bringing back some of that fear.”

“Vulnerability is scary,” Lola said. “It’s been a long time since you let anyone in. But Leo is not a Dylan. And even if he was, you’ll be an ocean away before you find that out. I know this is hard for you, but try to just have fun. Treat it like a vacation hookup. No expectations, only fun. It’s only a few more days. Enjoy them. And don’t get caught.”

“Right.”

The ever-shortening timeline didn’t bring her much comfort. As excited as she was to put this project behind her and celebrate the holidays with her mom, the prospect of never seeing Leo again filled her stomach with ceramic pie weights.

“I really hope that this sexy royal rendezvous is a palate cleanser for you. Your life has been nothing but stress and caregiving for over two years. It’s about time you opened yourself to the possibility of love again. Or at least some banging. You deserve a bigger, more wonderful life.”

“We’ll see. If the queen finds out, I’m going to be—shit.”

The door opened, and Emma stopped mid-sentence. Princess Ruby walked into the kitchen holding Emma’s coat. Had she heard anything?

“Lo, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” Emma plucked her headphones out and stowed them in her pocket.

“Hi, Princess. How are you feeling?”

Ruby touched a hand to her head. “I’m fine. I wanted to bring this back to you and say thank you.”

She handed over the coat.

Emma hung it from a peg by the door. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“You stepped in and protected me. Even against Paul.”

Emma shrugged. “People keep saying that, but I have no idea who that little prick is. Nor do I care.”

“Well,” Ruby said, circling around the large central kitchen island and inspecting a tray of tarts, “I got a text from a friend saying he’s unexpectedly spending his last semester of school in Italy.”

“Good,” Emma said flatly. Hopefully the women of Italy were well-equipped with tasers, mace, and large angry brothers.

Ruby looked hesitantly at the door and inched closer. “I also wanted to say thank you for your discretion.”

“I’ve already forgotten it,” Emma said. “Want one?” She offered the tray to Ruby.

“Uh, yes.” The girl plucked a tart off the tray without finding a plate. Emma could only imagine what the queen would have to say about bare-handing a pastry.

“I’m going to miss your baking,” Ruby said thoughtfully. “I wonder who Mother will hire next.”

“Well, in the fall, you can come visit me, and I’ll bake croissants for your whole dorm.”

“I feel better knowing that you’re going to be there,” Ruby said with a small smile. “Anyway, thank you again.”

She left. Emma had just settled back into her flow when the door swung open again. Her heart lifted for a second. Was it Leo?