Page 38 of Fae's Mate
“Alright,” I agree.
The High Lord beams at me.
“Let me change,” I tell him, not wanting to ruin one of the loaned—sorry,gifted—dresses. I scurry into the bathroom and quickly change into my ‘human’ clothes, including my apron, which has been washed and pressed.
I’m still knotting the apron when I leave the bathroom and find the High Lord stood in the middle of the room patiently. He tilts his head at my ensemble.
“I didn’t want to ruin my dress… these are my work clothes… I mean, I was baking when the portal opened… these are baking clothes.”
“Ah, I see.”
He nods his understanding and heads for the door, gesturing for me to lead the way. I head down the human hallway, and he comes to walk beside me.
“I thought, seen as pumpkins are one thing we have in abundance here, we could bake that… what did you call it, cat-zoo?”
This time I cannot hide my laugh.
“Katsu,” I correct, “hmmm, I’m not sure you would have all the right ingredients for that here… do you have: panko, curry powder, turmeric, ginger, coconut oil?” I list off the most unlikely ingredients.
“I do not recognise any of those.” The High Lord frowns.
“Not to worry. You don’tbakekatsu, anyway. Besides, it would probably make me homesick.”
I consider for a moment. “If you have an abundance of pumpkin, we could make pumpkin pie?”
“We could?”
“Yeah,” I agree, then list off all the ingredients we would need. To my surprise, Autumn Court has all of them, even nutmeg.
When we arrive at the kitchens, the High Lord tells all the staff to leave. Cook huffs at his demand but ushers the rest of the staff from the room, closing the door behind them.
The kitchen is enormous. Obviously, as it supplies the food for the entire palace, not that many live there. Only the High Lord, his brother and sister, the remaining humans, and the staff, including guards. As far as I know, at least.
A huge wooden table sits in the center of the room. Behind it is a massive fire, with room for several pots, and a gigantic oven. Along one wall is a workbench, and along the other are numerous cupboards. Pots, pans, and utensils hang from hooks in the wall, and an open doorway in one corner reveals a large pantry.
“Tell me again what you need?” The High Lord asks me, keen to assist.
I list off the ingredients and equipment needed and watch with amusement as he scurries around the kitchen to gather everything for me. Once we have everything, I set him to preparing the pumpkin while I begin the pastry. In truth, my hands are far too warm—my whole body is boiling in his presence—to make pastry, but it is the more complex task, so I take responsibility.
“I was wondering if I might ask you something?” The High Lord ventures after a few minutes.
“Sure.”
It seems only fair I answer some of his questions and I brace myself for something difficult.
“I have been thinking about my brother,” he begins, not the topic I expected. “It has been two weeks since I sentence him to iron,” his voice is tight, “I have a mind to finish his sentence early. His magic will be needed… to open a portal… and the longer he is in iron, the longer it will take to replenish his magic.”
“I see,” I reply, pressing the pastry into a circular dish and sliding it into the oven. I should really cool it first, but the fae don’t have fridges.
“I do not wish to insult any of the humans by ending his sentence early, but… it is in their best interest that he recovers from his imprisonment.”
“I agree.”
“My only concern is… well… he will want to meet his mate.”
Ah.
“Do you know which one of us it is yet?” I ask.
