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I hadn’t seen Lucifer since the day I almost accidentally summoned my grandmother into the castle, and he appeared to have not warmed to me even a tiny bit.
“His Majesty would like you to eat,” he said, gesturing toward the table. “And then I am to escort you to the library.”
I frowned, stretching and trying to rub the exhaustion from my face. “He’s not joining me?”
Lucifer pursed his lips. “The king has been detained with business,” he said, voice hard and unyielding. He sounded like he truly loathed being put on babysitting duty. “Please eat.”
I sighed, doing as he asked and enjoying my meal in silence as he loomed like an oppressive sentry over me. Carnon had clearly told the kitchen I liked macarons, because there were two on a little porcelain dish as dessert.
“Do you like macarons, Lucifer?” I asked, trying to make some kind of conversation in the stilted silence. I licked the cream filling from my fingers and looked up at him. He grimaced.
“I do not. Are you ready?”
I rolled my eyes and rose, picking up the little tray.
“Where should I put this?” I asked, nodding to the now empty dishes. I had eaten everything that had been sent up, and I was still a little hungry.
“Someone from the kitchens will come and get it,” he replied tersely.
“Don’t be silly,” I said, trying to put on my most winning smile. “I can take it myself. Save your staff the trouble.”
Lucifer scowled as if this was the opposite of saving his staff the trouble, but he nodded and turned to re-enter Carnon’s room.
Goddess above, it wasn’t like Imeantto summon my grandmother, or make him dispose of her severed hand.
Lucifer led me down the servants’ passage that Carnon and I had first used when we came to the palace. I cringed internally at the memory of him lying to me relentlessly as we climbed these same stairs, even as I begged him to tell me the truth I already suspected.
The kitchen was busy in the light of day, demons and humans alike bustling about with food and trays and ingredients for cooking. An imposing looking man—or male, rather, for his tail marked him as a demon—seemed to command the small chaotic army from the center of the kitchen, a chef's hat perched atop a pair of antlered horns.
“You,” the demon shouted, looking at Lucifer, his face purpling in anger. “Out of my kitchen.”
“Gladly,” Lucifer replied coolly. “Please come with me, my Lady.”
I put the tray down on a nearby counter and was about to turn to follow the hulking demon when the chef shouted, “Wait!” I turned to see him weave his way toward me, skirting various cooks and kitchen helpers and beaming down at me as the furious color receded from his features.
“My Lady,” he said, bowing deeply before me and taking my hand in his. “I am Pierre, head chef of the palace. It is a pleasure to meet you. His Majesty tells me you like my macarons.”
He said the word “macarons” with an unfamiliar accent, and I smiled back, trying to look friendly. Even if Lucifer hated me, it would be wise to get some of the staff on my side, and this male seemed to have no love for his boss.
“Yes, I do,” I agreed, beaming at him. “I have never tasted anything so delicious.”
“Ahh, a lady with excellent taste,” he said, beaming back at me, then looking up to scowl at Lucifer. Lucifer rolled his eyes, and I guessed that he and Pierre didn’t really get along. “It is good to know our future Queen has a perceptive palate.”
I laughed, wanting to talk to the chef more, but Lucifer took me by the shoulders.
“Time to go,” he growled, giving Pierre a long stare. Pierre raised his brows emphatically at Lucifer, and some silent conversation or argument passed between them. Pierre clearly won, because he smiled brightly at me as Lucifer growled again.
“Visit me any time, my Lady,” Pierre shouted. Lucifer didn’t let me wave goodbye, pushing me into the hallway and practically dragging me toward the library.
“I take it you don’t like him?” I asked, panting a bit as I basically jogged behind the irate demon.
“My relationship with my staff is none of your business, my Lady,” he replied. “Not until you are married to the king.”
“Does everyone know?” I asked with a grimace as we came upon the carved library doors.
Lucifer turned, looking down at me with a raised brow.
“About the marriage,” I clarified.
