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The First Rule
Matteo resumed his babysitting duty the morning following the princess's birthday celebration, and I resumed my own routine.
I was finally making progress with the women in the kitchen, little by little.
It had begun with Maria, the head cook with the silver streaked red hair. I made it a point to attempt conversation every single time I joined them and, eventually, her responses became less clipped, more sincere. She began telling me stories; short anecdotes about her life. Like the time her son had taken in a stray kitten and hidden it in a box under his bed. Or how that same son now had a son of his own who dreamed of being a veterinarian.
Once she had warmed to me, the rest of the cooks followed suit. Where the kitchen had once been quiet and awkward, it was from then on filled with voices and laughter.
They still shot wary glances to where Matteo always was, hovering in the background. He preferred leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes gazing blankly at the ceiling. An air of disinterest hung about him, though I had a feeling he was listening to every word of our conversations. Much like myself, the kitchen staff would come to learn that he was more prone to heavy sighs than unprovoked attacks. And more so by the day.
I was dicing potatoes one afternoon when I was disrupted by an unexpected voice, "For once, it seems the gossips were correct."
I turned in time to see Princess Evelina toss a perfectly curled lock of glossy raven hair over her shoulder. Princess Sienna stood beside her like a miniature replica, though her eyes held none of the same cold calculation of her older counterpart.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but no sound came out. The week that had passed since I had last seen her, on the night of her birthday ball, had been much too short.
"What," she smirked, "no hello?"
"I– I–" I stuttered, completely caught off guard and embarrassed to have to face the princess in front of the ladies of the kitchen who had all only just begun to like me. To my relief, they at least pretended to not be paying attention.
She gave an airy laugh, "You're such a timid thing, Rose, I'm only teasing you." A delicate sigh slipped from her lips as she adjusted the amethyst bracelet at her wrist, glancing disdainfully around the room, "My dear brother would have my head if I upset you."
Her words were not nearly as reassuring as she likely intended. Instead of responding, I focused my attention back on my work cutting potatoes.
"I'm hungry," Sienna murmured to her sister.
The older princess tsked, turning to me again, "I hear that you insist on spending your days here. Will you cook something for us, little mouse?"
I looked up, startled, "Oh– I– I–," I stuttered again, "I just help out. If you'd like, I'm sure Maria would love to help you find something to–"
Her disbelieving laugh cut me off. She raised a brow in question, "Are you trying to tell me that you aren't allowed to cook anything?"
"Well, I–," I began, looking around at the cooks, uncertainly, "it's just that–"
Full lips pulled up in a smirk. "The first rule of being the alpha's mate, little mouse," she said, taking measured steps in my direction, "No one tells you no." She turned those unnerving eyes on the other women, somehow managing to pick out Maria without an introduction, "You're all dismissed for the evening, Rose will take it from here."
A few of the cooks began to gather their things, but Maria, to her credit, held her ground a moment longer, "Dinner hasn't been prepared yet."
The princess waved her off, "Then leave instructions if you must, and go."
Hesitant, I met Evelina's gaze, "They'll be paid for a full day of work." I didn't phrase it as a question.
Her smirk widened to a grin, "You learn quickly." She shrugged, regarding Maria as she scribbled down her instructions on a piece of paper, "Their pay will not be docked."
With that, the few remaining cooks gathered their things and disappeared through another servants corridor behind a panel in the far wall. Instead of focusing on the fact that I was the only human left in the room, I studied the nearly invisible seam where the door was. Just how many of those have I passed daily and not known they were there?
As the door closed behind Maria, Evelina snatched up the instructions the poor woman had just finished writing and looked them over. She somehow managed to make a snort sound dainty as she ripped the paper down the middle.
A strangled sound escaped from my throat. I lurched forward, but the damage had already been done. She continued tearing at the page until nothing was left of the paper but tiny ribbons.
She gave a trilling laugh, "Don't look so upset, Rose. I thought you knew how to cook?"
Near the door, Matteo shifted uncomfortably. "Ev," he said. It might have been meant as a warning, but his tone was more of a plea. Her gaze never left my face, as if he hadn't spoken at all.
"Well, I do," I answered her, wringing my hands together, "but I've never cooked anything– uh– palace appropriate."
Her brow arched as she considered it. "I've never had peasant food before. It should be interesting, at the very least."
I tried not to look offended.
I looked around at the ingredients that the cooks had managed to prep before being dismissed, trying to formulate a plan. "There's nothing made yet for your snack, but if you're willing to wait about an hour, I know a recipe for bread that doesn't require kneading."
She turned to her sister, but the little princess wasn't looking at her.
Sienna turned her doll-like features to me, "You can make bread?" Something about the childish innocence in her voice made me think of my own sister, Daisy, though they were nothing alike.
"Yes," I hesitated, "would you like me to teach you how?"
There was a heavy silence for a beat, before the little princess nodded her head.
I tried not to stiffen as she approached. Sure, she looked harmless, but how much raw strength was she hiding behind that sweet disposition? "The first step of cooking anything is to wash your hands," I told her uncertainly.
I let out a quiet breath that I hadn't realized I had been holding when she turned to do as I said without argument, then blushed as I realized the entire room had likely heard it.
Finding the remaining ingredients in the countless cupboards proved to be a much more tedious task than I had anticipated. But, by the time I had hunted it all down, the shaking in my fingers had subsided enough to not be noticeable. At least, I hoped that was the case.
Together, Sienna and I managed to make the dough without any incident. Evelina had gravitated toward us at some point during the process, though she kept quiet. Those cunning eyes were on me like a weight, but I pretended I couldn't feel them for fear of what would come next.
"Now, we wait," I told the younger princess as I slid the pan into the oven. I turned to finish chopping the vegetables without looking up at the other two spectators.
I was so caught up in trying to ignore Evelina's watchful eyes, that I hadn't heard another approach. "Is there something that I can do to help?" I was surprised to find Matteo had left his post by the wall.
I offered him the knife that I was holding without a word, gesturing for him to take over.
A laugh slipped past my lips, despite my fear. "You're holding it all wrong," he raised his brows, but didn't seem bothered as he watched me show him the correct way. "You're holding it like a weapon," I held up another knife, imitating him, "I'm sure it's very handy in a fight, but a kitchen knife is not a weapon. It's a tool," I shifted my grip. "If you hold it like this, you can apply the pressure more evenly for chopping."
Before he could respond, Sienna's hand took gentle hold of my wrist and I fought the urge to flinch at power I could feel in the tiny grasp. "Can I help with dinner too?"
"Of course," I said quietly, turning to find her another task.
Then, only Evelina was left watching. "How do you know how to do all of this?" She finally asked, her tone holding less bite than she had ever used with me before.
I glanced up, wary, to find her looking at me in open curiosity. Something in her expression had me answering her with the truth, "I used to work in a bakery, before..." I let the word trail off awkwardly.
She didn't need clarification. Her brow rose, "You learned to make whatever this is in a bakery?" She gestured to the pot I had begun searing large chunks of beef in. Meat had been hard to come by back home, steak even more so. When I had seen it sitting in the refrigerator, I couldn't resist the temptation to use it. I also couldn't find it in me to be embarrassed by the meal I was attempting to scrounge together, despite the fact that she had referred to it as 'peasant food'.
"It's stew," I said, keeping my eyes glued to my work, "or, at least it will be."
She waited.
I sighed, "I didn't learn this in a bakery, I learned it at home."
Her nose scrunched, "There was no one else to do it?"
"No," I said indignantly, tilting my chin up in an imitation of the way Signora Flori was prone to, "we all helped out as much as we could."
She only hummed in response. Perhaps she might have said more, if Matteo hadn't suddenly sworn under his breath, gripping at his finger.
My reaction was instinctual. "Hold it under water, to wash it off," I instructed him, grabbing a clean towel from a drawer and rushing to his side by the sink. I gently pried his hand from under the stream, reaching out with the hand that held the towel to staunch the bleeding, but I stopped cold.
Before my eyes, the bleeding had already begun to clot.
I withdrew both of my hands, swallowing down the lump that had appeared in my throat. My voice was awkward as I muttered, "Right."
I returned to my work a moment later, trying to forget what I had seen.
When I pulled the bread from the oven, there was a small tingle of anticipation in my belly. I wasn't sure why, but it mattered to me that they liked my cooking. The skill was one of the few things that they were not naturally superior at. I was surprised by how much I needed it, just one thing that was mine.
I cut one of the four loaves and set it out for them while I returned to my stew. I was shocked to hear Evelina's voice first, "This is delicious."
My head snapped up to gape at her, nearly missing Matteo's grunt of agreement. I blushed, turning back to add ingredients to the pot, "Thank you."
When there was nothing left, but to let the stew simmer, I turned back around, startled to find them already looking at me, expectant. I looked between them, an awkward smile finding my lips, "Should we make a dessert while we wait?"
Even Evelina crossed to the sink to wash up this time, and it was increasingly difficult to keep the stupefied look from my face. Could she possibly be interested in helping?
I found muffin pans in one of the cabinets near the oven and smiled. The rest of the ingredients were easy to find after my search earlier, and the three shifters– as the prince had called them– listened to my instructions easily.
Soon, there were cupcakes baking in the oven, and we had moved on to the frosting.
I portioned us each out our own bowl of the fluffy mixture. When I turned, a bowl in each hand, I found that Sienna had crept up silently to watch over my shoulder. Our bodies collided, the bowls falling to the ground, frosting flying everywhere.
Evelina gasped, and I was scared to survey the damage I had done to her impeccable look. Sienna, who had taken the brunt of the explosion, along with myself giggled as she surveyed herself.
Before I could even open my mouth to begin to apologize, the little princess had turned and wrapped her arms around her sister, smearing more buttercream into her dress.
My lips parted in surprise in time with Evelina's indignant screech, "Sienna!"
She reached into one of the remaining bowls and took a handful of it, smearing a diagonal line across the younger girls face.
I might have continued to stand there, gaping like a fish, had Matteo not said beside me, voice urgent, "Luna."
My head spun immediately, and I found myself gasping as I felt frosting glide against my own cheek. Across the room, Sienna broke into fits of laughter, chasing her sister. I sputtered, but grabbed some frosting of my own, reaching out to exact my revenge, for a moment, forgetting all about what he was– despite having only just watched his rapid healing abilities myself.
He dodged my hand easily, laughing. I chased him until my breaths were coming in short gasps, but never managed to even come close to marking him with the frosting. His smirk only grew in time with my frustration.
I was just about to give up, when Evelina appeared from seemingly nowhere, leaving a hand-shaped frosting imprint on his cheek with a smug grin.
There was no time to celebrate. While I was distracted by Evelina and Matteo, Sienna had managed to sneak up behind me again. She swiped a line of frosting along my other cheek.
My hand shot out fast, and unlike with Matteo, I managed to find my mark. I let out a shrill laugh at the surprise on her face before running behind the island, using the counter as a shield. Both princesses gave chase, and had nearly caught me, each with their own heaping handful of the sticky frosting when a voice that I had grown all too familiar with cut through the laughter, stopping us all short.
"What is going on in here?"
~*~*~
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