"Why not?" I ask curiously.
"I'm not sure, but he didn't seem particularly impressed when I made the request from him, even when I said Chef Martina had agreed to today's tasting."
"Maybe he still doesn't approve of me being in the kitchen at all," I say.
"Then he's a fool," Nate says. "Anyone who has spent five minutes in the kitchen with you can see how much you care, and how much useful input you can have into menus. I'm assuming your parents must have thought so too, considering your current job."
I nod. "Father suggested it when he wanted to give us all jobs that meant helping with the running of the kingdom. I think he was worried that taking me out of the kitchen would mean I'd end up insulting the wrong person."
"You don't give yourself nearly enough credit," Nate responds. "But your talents do lie here." He heads to the oven and opens the door, pulling out a tray.
He brings it over to the table and sets it down before removing the lid. A savoury smell fills the air, and my mouth waters at the sight. I don't love this type of cooking the same as I love baking, but I can still appreciate good food.
"There's a sauce to go with this too," he says. "But I told them not to put it on so you could have it on the side."
"I appreciate it."
"I know how you feel about that kind of thing," he responds. "You're the only person I know who will have a bowl of custard at the side of your pie instead of poured over it."
"I like having the custard, I just don't want it touching the pastry. Unless it's a custard tart, then it's acceptable."
"I know," he assures me. "This is the lemon-stuffed chicken Chef Martina made at your suggestion." He holds out a fork to me.
I reach out to take it, my fingers brushing against his as I do.
Nate takes in a sharp breath, and I look up to meet his gaze.
"Are you all right?"
"Fine," he murmurs. "There's a lemon-beurre sauce to go with it." He pushes the jug towards me.
I nod and put a little bit of the chicken on my plate, along with a roasted carrot. The portion is small, but I imagine that's because there's a lot to try. I take a bite of the chicken, letting the flavours melt in my mouth. The lemon is subtle, but I do like the way it complements the meat. I try it with a little bit of the sauce, and am unsurprised that it also goes well. Chef Martina has an excellent palette, it's one of the reasons she's held her position as the castle's head chef for as long as she has.
"Any notes?" Nate asks.
I shake my head. "I don't think so."
"All right, then we should move on to the next one..." He produces several more dishes, but I have to admit that I barely manage to pay much attention to any of them. I'm too busy watching him and trying to work out if the way I feel is friendship or more.
"Veronica," I mutter under my breath.
Nate gives me a confused look. "What did she do?"
I clear my throat. "Nothing."
He laughs. "And here was me thinking she gave you a talking to when I left yesterday."
I sigh. "She did. She told me to think about how it looks. But I told her it was nothing." That's not where the conversation ended, but I don't think I can tell him that, at least not yet.
A strange expression crosses Nate's face, one that I want to chase away, even if I don't really know what's causing it or why I want to change it.
"She really liked your chocolates," I say, even though it's not really what I want to tell him about the conversation with Veronica. He's my best friend, and I want to talk to him about the possibility that I might be in love, but it seems strange to talk about it when he's the one Veronica thinks I might be in love with, and I don't want to make things tense between us when we only have a short amount of time together.
"I'm glad she liked them," he says. "Though I have another recipe that she might like better if she still likes raspberries."
"As far as I know," I respond, a weird feeling settling within me as I think about him making chocolates specifically for my sister, even if I know that it means nothing.
"I can try it out for her before I leave," he says. "It's nice to be able to bake for people whose tastes I know again."
