Page 58 of That Prince is Mine
“You have to save room for the rest of the food.” She cleared the empty porridge bowls to the side.
“That’s true, since you’ve brought enough food for five people.” He peered at the noodle dish and said, “I think I recognize this one. It’s japchae, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She beamed at him. The vermicelli with beef and colorful julienned vegetables was a well-known Korean dish, but she was still delighted that he knew what it was called. “You can find it at most Korean restaurants, but I made some for you because it’s one of my favorites.”
“May I?” He waited with his chopsticks poised over the noodles.
“Of course.” She watched him take a bite, holding her breath.
“I’ve been missing out if this is what japchae is really supposed to taste like.” He took another bite and chewed slowly. “It’s savory with just the right hint of sweet. And the texture—the soft, chewy noodles with the crisp vegetables—is so satisfying. I could eat this every day.”
“Me, too, but it’s usually only eaten on special occasions because of all the work that goes into it.” She placed a hwayangjeok on his plate. It kind of looked like a two-by-three-inch flag with multicolored stripes and a skewer at the end holding it all together. “Now try this.”
“This I’ve never seen before.” He turned the meat-and-vegetable skewer this way and that.
“It’s a perfect bite built onto a skewer.” She pointed out each of the six ingredients that made up the stripes in the miniature flag. “That’s egg yolk, egg white, marinated beef, cucumber, shiitake mushroom, and carrot. Everything is cooked and seasoned separately but made to complement one another’s flavors.”
“That’s like a symphony in my mouth,” Michel said after he swallowed. “I don’t know if I want to inhale all the food or savor every bite.”
“I vote for savoring, but let me point out the rest of the dishes in case you can’t control yourself. I’ll be quick.” Emma laughed. “This is fish jeon, which is bite-size fish fillet battered with flour and egg wash, then pan-fried to a golden brown. Use the soy sauce dip with it. And that’s blanched soybean sprouts with toasted sesame oil and green onions, a staple in Korean meals. Oh, and you should have some of this shredded white radish with vinegar and mustard sauce to refresh your palate between the heavier dishes.”
She looked expectantly at him, with every intention of watching him eat, but he didn’t pick up his chopsticks. Instead, he held her gaze for a moment, then leaned in to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Thank you for all of this. It means a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome.” Her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. “Does… does anyone cook for you at home… in Rouleme?”
“We have a chef, but…” He shrugged with an elegant lift of his shoulders, but the gesture felt forlorn.
“But this is different,” she finished for him.
“When my mother was alive, she used to make crepes with butter and sugar on some nights. We would eat them in the kitchen, and she’d let me stay up way past my bedtime, talking about our day,” he said with a faraway smile. “She led a busy life, so it didn’t happen often, but I remember those moments so clearly.”
“When did she pass away?” Emma linked her fingers through his, resting their hands on his thigh.
“I was nine.” His fingers tightened around hers, and she heard all his unspoken words. He might be rich and successful, but no one—other than someone paid to do so—had cooked for him since he was nine years old.
“Eat.” She smiled past the tears blurring her vision. “The food’s getting cold.”
He held her eyes a moment longer, then he plated some japchae for her. “You should eat, too, before I finish all this by myself.”
Suddenly, this beautiful man by her side didn’t feel like someone from a different world. It didn’t feel as though they had nothing in common. The connection between them shone brightly in her heart, strong and tautly tethered.
Somewhere along the line, she’d forgotten about proving their incompatibility… too happy to be with him to notice any jarring differences. And she acknowledged for the first time that it would cost her something to lose him. But how much would it cost her? Was this time with him worth the cost?
Sitting side by side beneath a tree heavy with springtime leaves, they enjoyed their picnic lunch with quiet happiness. She couldn’t imagine trading this time with him for anything in the world. And there’s my answer. So practical and smart Emma made the impractical and not-so-smart decision to be with Michel for the remainder of the two months even if it meant it would cost her more to lose him—even if it meant her heart would get broken. He was worth the risk.
As for her godmother’s reputation, how much difference could a few weeks make? She hadn’t said anything yet about losing clients over the Crones’ smear campaign. And even if they ended up losing clients here and there, how much would it affect Emma’s goal of leasing a commercial kitchen in the long run?
Her profession was important to her, but she didn’t want it to be her everything like for her mom. This time with Michel meant something to Emma. He meant something to her. He was worth a bit of delay in opening up her culinary school.
Besides, a few weeks was a very short time in the grand scheme of things. She would enjoy every moment of their time together even though she knew exactly when and how things would end between them. She pressed the heel of her hand into her aching chest. This was enough. It had to be enough.
When they finished eating, she picked up a second thermos filled with ice-cold sujeonggwa—a sweet drink flavored with fresh ginger and cinnamon sticks. “This is dessert.”
“It’s delicious,” Michel said after taking a sip of the translucent burgundy drink. “Everything was delicious.”
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks growing warm.
He linked his fingers through hers and dropped a kiss on each of her knuckles. “Will I see you tonight?”
