Page 53 of Wicked Prince of Frost

Iseul skips inside. “Chef Jeong!”

The head chef looks up from his work of slicing a large slab of meat. The only thing giving away his age is the gray that streaks the black hair at his temples. A warm smile sweeps across his face, etching small lines at the corners of his eyes.

He’s quick to set his knife down and round the table asIseul all but barrels into him. He catches her, enveloping her in a hug. “It’s good to see you, too, Iseul.”

She pulls back, batting her long lashes. “We were feeling a little hungry. Do you think we could get a snack?”

“Strawberry or blueberry lemon?” Chef Jeong asks with laughter in his voice.

I was right about this being an excuse. And this is obviously not the first time Iseul’s done this. Not that I mind. The aroma of a dozen different dishes being prepared has made me realize how hungry I am.

Iseul brings a hand to the side of her mouth and whispers, “We were hoping for…thespecialone.”

He chuckles and goes into the back, returning with two small, wrapped bundles. He holds them out only to pull them out of reach when she goes for them. “Keep this between us. I don’t need half the palace expecting similar favors.”

“We promise,” Iseul says with a playful wink.

Chef Jeung turns his attention on me. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before,” he says politely, though I’m sure he knows who I am by the simple fact that I am the only one in the palace with round, human ears.

“This is Violet—Lady Hawthorn. She’s the prince’s new bride.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, My Lady.”

His bow is interrupted by a cry coming from the other side of the kitchen.

The young man at the stove cradles his hand against his chest, wrapped in a tea towel. The others all gather around him, trying to examine the damage.

My feet carry me past the man and over to the gathered cooks before I realize what I’m doing.

“I grabbed the wrong pot,” Myung sniffles. Up close, he’s even younger than I first thought. “It burns.”

“Will it heal quickly?” I ask.

The gathered cooks lift their heads, seeing me for the first time, gaping in bewilderment.

“No,” a young woman says. “I’m afraid no one here possesses that kind of magic. Myung will need a healer for something this bad.” She holds him against her

“Myung,” Chef Jeung says with a mixture of worry and weariness. He looks to the woman on the young man’s other side. “Hana, please go fetch her. Bitna has everything under control. The rest of you can get back to work.”

“Have him put his hand in cool water until the healer gets here,” I say. Then, on a whim, I ask, “Is there a clean bowl I can use?”

Chef Jeung jerks his chin toward the counter behind me. “Help yourself to anything you need, My Lady.”

I pick up the nearest one and help myself to several herbs. I add several things to the bowl, crushing them before breaking off a thick leaf from a plant I recognize. A jell-like substance oozes from the broken end. I squeeze it into my mixture and stir until it forms a smooth paste.

Iseul, Bitna, and Myung gather closer, watching in fascination.

“Can I see your hand?” I ask Myung.

He holds his hand tighter to himself.

“You can trust her,” Iseul urges.

He glances at Bitna, who shrugs, then nods.

Taking his hand, I smear the salve over the angry-looking skin. Myung sighs in relief.

“You’ll want to keep it wrapped for the next few days while it heals. Make sure you change your bandages out once a day—more if they get dirty. And reapply more of the paste. I’ll leave it unbandaged for now so your physician can examine it.”