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She had been told about the hypnotic capabilities a few good lays could have on a person. She’d had a few before Xander but never anything that thorough and enticing. It made sense, of course; once your buttons were pushed properly, you would continue to seek out the very thing that did it for you.
But it was early, and she didn’t want to find herself in his bad books before the break of dawn. That wouldn’t be a good omen for the rest of the day.
So she left their shared suite, closing the door quietly. She was used to doing that, too, of course, as her father remarked how she was quite like a mouse when she felt like it.
And all the other times, she was a dragon. She liked it that way.
Moving around this palace at dawn was different than moving around the palace of her childhood. Her home was far less modern and a place she knew like the back of her hand. The palace of Obsidianvale was a blended mix of modern updates and vintage homages to those who had passed on to the other side.
She eventually ended up in the kitchen on their private, secured floor. She hadn’t seen this the day before, so she marveled at it. The updated appliances and cookware were elegant in their chrome and leather casings. No one was there, but the fridge was completely stocked, along with a pantry neatly organized for any choice snack or meal a person could possibly imagine.
Lexi traced her finger along the chrome countertop and thought she could do something romantic to make up for the cold shoulder she had given Xander the night before. It wouldn’t resolve everything, but it would start them off on the right foot again … hopefully.
So she would make him breakfast just the way she and her sisters would sometimes do, giving the chefs the day off.
Lexi’s spirit soared as she removed eggs from the fridge and sausage from the freezer, and then she cut up a beautiful sourdough loaf. She had only turned the stove on when one of the staff chefs walked in, instantly bellowing.
“What are you doing?”
Lexi stood at the stove, adjusting the temperature for a pan she’d doused in oil, when the chef’s accented voice gave her a fright. She turned to see a stocky bald man looking at her like she had stabbed the heart of a prestigious cow.
Lexi smiled, trying to charm her way out of an argument.
“I’m making the king breakfast,” she said, spinning the spatula in her hand. “I’m Lexi Hart. Nice to meet you …”
The chef disregarded her open hand and ran to the stove like it was on fire. He switched the oven off, eyes wide and red with rage.
“You cannot do that!” he yelled at her. “The kitchen is for kitchen staff only. Those are the orders of the king.”
He stood dangerously close to Lexi, so close that she felt sprinkles of his spittle hitting her cheeks. She had been patient and able to keep a lid on her anger up to this point, but even it was starting to boil over.
She held up a hand to the chef, closing her eyes to keep herself together.
“Hold on,” she said firmly. “I’m your future queen. I must have the same level of authority that King Xander has. And I’m vetoing his rule about the kitchen staff and allowingmyselfto make the king his breakfast.”
The chef turned away from her, shaking his head and muttering something in another language. It sounded French to Lexi, who had a limited experience with the language but had known it from some of their own chefs growing up in Autumhart.
“Métis pensant qu’elle peut venir ici et faire ce qu’elle veut …”
He frantically wiped the countertop and moved around everything she had placed out in the order she was going to cook them. She wasn’t a professionally trained chef, but she’d had enough experience to let the gesture speak for itself.
Lexi swallowed as the chef continued to mutter, doing her best to stay even and understanding.
“Look, I’ll do this, and then I will get out of your way. I want to do something nice for him, that’s all.”
The chef wasn’t looking at her, and, thus, not listening. When he stood at the fridge, bent down into it, and mumbling to himself, Lexi caught the fatal word.
“Métis …”
It was French forhalf-breed. Lexi had known this without a doubt from when she was a child, overhearing it when her parents would speak to other kings and queens about possible unions. One of them happened to be French and used it to insult their family’s honor.
All of the anger and hurt from her past came flooding out, making Lexi unhinged for the first time as the potential queen.
Lexi grabbed hold of the fridge door while the chef was still leaning down inside it and slammed it shut. The chef felt the wind of the push and jumped out of the way just in time before getting his fingers crushed beneath the strength of the motion.
When he looked at her with offended and startled eyes, a part of Lexi wished she had smashed his fingers between the doors.
“I amnota defect!” she snarled. “Get that through your thick skull right now. I will not be treated this way as your fucking future queen!”
