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“Pecans?” the cook asked.
“Yes. Don’t tell me the trader didn’t send the nuts?”
“He did. Only they’re not pee-cons, like you said. He brought some of these other nuts. They have a similar name, though, if that helps.”
“What? What do you mean a similar name? What are they?”
“Pee-nuts, he called them.”
Blake grabbed his hair and started pulling on it. “Peanuts? Peanuts?” he cried. “Whoever heard of a peanut pie!”
“Not me,” the cook said, as Ryan dissolved into helpless laughter, leaning against the stove to hold himself up. Blake shot him a dirty look.
“Look, Blake,” Ryan said as he mopped at his eyes and tried to compose himself. “Just calm down. You’re getting too excited. Forget the pie. Do you have the things you need to make the red velvet cake? Maybe just that would be enough. I’m sure everyone will like it.”
“Yes, here it is in this bag,” the cook said helpfully, and pulled out a box of yellow cake mix—and a swath of red material. It was red colored velvet, to be exact. For the red velvet cake.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? Wear it around my shoulders like a cape while I serve the fucking peanut pie? This is a total disaster! Somebody tell me why I ever came to this godforsaken world in the first place! I wish I’d never seen this crazy planet. No, I wish I’d left it years ago when I had the chance and I wish I’d never come back!”
“Blake, you don’t mean that.”
“Oh yes, I do! Right after I first came and met Davos, he thought seriously about putting me in the prisoner transport to be sent back home, because he said he knew even then that I’d be too much damn trouble. The arrogant ass. Well, I wish he would have! I wish I’d gone back home and never returned, and my life would have been so much better.”
Looking for a way to vent his temper, he looked around and spotted the big jar of turkey gravy and flung it against the wall. It smashed into the wall with an impressive crashing sound, and glass shards and gravy spewed over the kitchen floor beneath it. Blake shouted out his frustration to the ceiling. “Perfect. Just perfect!”
“I’ll get it up,” Ryan said, but Blake waved him away.
“No, don’t! You’ll cut yourself.”
“Me? What about you?”
Blake ignored him, grabbed a kitchen towel off the counter and charged forward to wipe up the mess. But he’d taken only about two steps before he slipped on the greasy gravy and went down in a spectacular fall. Because he was rushing forward, his momentum caused his feet to fly up over his head and he smashed to the floor and lay there like a pole axed steer, his eyes fluttering. A meaty sounding thunk had resounded through the kitchen as his head literally bounced off the floor.
Ryan and the cook stood there for one frozen, horrified moment, looking at each other in complete shock and dismay before running to his rescue.
“Go get some help. Hurry!” Ryan shouted a second later as he fell down next to Blake, dabbing at the blood streaming out of his head with a piece of the red velvet material that was still hanging off the counter and drooping forlornly to the floor.
Chapter Three
Blake, Royal Consort to King Davos
Blake awoke to the far-off sound of some stringed instrument playing. It was most peaceful and soothing, and the sweet smell of flowers was in the air. For a few moments, he relaxed and listened to the music of the—harps. Yes, that’s what those were. He hadn’t heard that instrument being played in years.
He opened his eyes and found himself in a totally strange place. Everything was white and fluffy with soft lighting, like the inside of a cloud. He blinked a few times, to clear his vision, but the scene in front of him didn’t change. A creature was staring at him from only a few feet away, so as soon as Blake realized it, he sat up in surprise.
It was a young man, looking vaguely human. “Who are you?” Blake asked in alarm. “And where is this place? How did I get here?”
“So many questions,” came the sweet, lilting voice. The pretty, blond creature grinned at Blake and tilted his head to the side. “My name is Chiel, and I was warned by my grandfather that you might be difficult. He was right. You do ask a lot of questions.”
“What do you mean? Who are you? And who’s your grandfather, for that matter? I demand you tell me at once.”
“Okay, no problem. Don’t get excited. I’m Chiel, like I said, and my grandfather is Barachiel—I was kinda named after him. I’m nobody really. Just an angel in training. But my grandfather is the human’s Chief Guardian Angel. Very important. You’re the Tygerian king’s consort. Your name is Blake, and I’ve been assigned to you.”
“I know who I am. But what am I doing here? I don’t understand.” Blake clutched his head, not so much in pain, because there wasn’t any of that. In fact, he felt perfectly fine, and his head wasn’t even hurting like it had before, but he was holding onto his head because he felt so confused. One minute he’d been in the palace kitchens, trying to pull together a Christmas meal and the next thing he knew he’d awakened here in this unknown place. Something very strange indeed was happening to him.
“Who did you say you were?”
“Chiel, and I’ve been assigned to help you.”
