Page 31 of The Chef

“Right. Of course. Thanks,” Fen replied, letting out another heavy breath.

As if summoned, Zain blew into the room. Emily bobbed along in her wake like a duckling chasing after its mother. Zain caught sight of Fen interrogating Karl and Shan and arrowed in their direction.

“You approved another child?” Fen snapped.

Zain let out a snort. “I need my soldiers at drill where they belong,” she snapped back, pointing at the woman from her unit who was currently elbow deep in soapsuds at the dishwashing station. “Your pretty chef needs extra pairs of hands. Giving him this kid solves both our problems. What’s the big deal?”

This time Fen’s heavy breath was a sharp inhale. “My office, 1400,” he told her, his voice tight with suppressed fury. He turned to look at Karl and Shan. “Are any more of your friends going to appear here?”

“No, sir!” Karl replied.

“Fine. Go eat. You’re dismissed,” he added sharply to Zain. Karl and Shan returned to their plates. Zain picked up two empty ones and went down the line filling them. She plonked Emily down at the same table as her brother and went to sit with the officers. And Fen stood in the same place, purposefully taking even breaths as he fought to get his seething temper under control.

When Zain was seated, Jenson came over. “I’ll get in touch with logistics, see about getting the kid properly authorized to be here.” He paused, frowning. “Did Karl say the gate guard takes a regular nighttime pee break?”

“Yes. Yes, he did,” Fen replied through gritted teeth, his voice softer now that he wasn’t trying to make a point.

“They, um, don’t get breaks. Right?”

“They remain at their post until their replacement arrives, or they follow the strictly outlined protocol if they need to step away. I’m going to eat something, and then I’m going to go have a very illuminating chat with the commander of the guard squad. I appreciate your taking the lead on coordinating with logistics. Take Emmerson with you. He’s the secretary that straightened out the paperwork allowing Emily to stay here yesterday, so he already knows how to browbeat the penny-pinchers over there into submission.”

“Will do.” Jensen saluted and trotted off.

Fen sent Char a tight smile that said he would catch up with Char later and finally went to fill his plate. Char left to rescue his overboiled eggs, and the day continued from there.

Chapter Eighteen

A WEEK ANDa half slid past far too quickly, and Char had practically moved into Fen’s set of rooms. He hadn’t meant to, but as every evening rolled around and Char finished closing up the kitchen for the night, he gravitated up the stairs and into Fen’s space. And it was good. Very, very good in every salacious euphemism Char’s brain could come up with. Even the nights Fen didn’t make it to bed—too busy with work or because he was over at the palace until late and slept there—it was still good. Being surrounded by Fen, his musky scent from the soap in his shower and the earthy tang beneath enveloping Char, even when Fen’s arms weren’t there to hold Char close, gave a real sense of comfort and security.

Of course, the entire base knew. By the second day, Char found his clothes hanging in the closet—distinguishable from Fen’s because they were two sizes smaller—and extra towels in the bathroom. Char wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of his things and even some of his furniture began magically gravitating into Fen’s rooms—the servants were scarily efficient—until Fen’s rooms becametheirrooms. Perhaps that idea was the best part of all; the feeling of combining their lives together so viscerally and with the tacit support of everyone around them.

Unfortunately, this morning those good feelings were tenuous at best and fleeing quickly. For the first time since Char had been threatened by that dark stranger in his kitchen, he was leaving the security of the base to go to the market in the capital city. Char sat on the edge of the bed to pull his socks on and then paused, biting his lip as worries swirled through his mind.

Fen’s gentle breathing behind Char slowed, and then Fen rolled over and wrapped his arms around Char’s waist.

“You’ll have two royal guards with you, and two more guards maintaining a perimeter,” Fen explained, his lips moving against the back of Char’s neck, feathering like butterfly wings. He pressed a kiss there before drawing back and shifting so he was sitting next to Char on the edge of the bed. “The city guards have been put on alert and have promised to increase patrols. Anyone who even thinks about targeting you will see all your protection and immediately cancel their nefarious plans. You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” Char let out a sigh, wishing the churning feeling in his gut would be reassured by Fen’s confidence.

“Oh! Before I forget. The quartermaster asked you to stop by if you have time today once you’re back. He wants to measure you for winter gear.”

“I won’t need heavy clothes with the ovens blasting in the kitchen,” Char said, wondering why a chef would need something like that.

Fen laughed. “This is the royal guard. At some point you’re going to be deployed with us in the field again, and if it happens in winter the quartermaster wants to be prepared. Besides, you’ll still be going to market in the winter, and there’s the winter festivals and such. You’ll need heavier gear for that too.”

“I guess I will,” Char replied. As usual, he hadn’t thought much past the needs of his kitchen, but Fen had yet again easily compensated for him.

Fen leaned close, Char tilted his head, and their lips brushed briefly, a quick zing like the moment sweetness overtook the sour in that first gulp of lemonade. Fen drew away, leaving Char blinking in surprise and wanting more.

“You have bread to bake,” Fen explained. “I’m going to the palace today, so I’ll see you in the courtyard later.”

The call of bread was stronger than the pull of Fen’s smile, but only because Fen went into the bathroom and vanished from view. Char hurried downstairs and into the kitchen, waved to Ralph, and went to get the ovens lit. His helpers trickled in, but this time Char left them to their own thing, concentrating on the bread and only the bread. The cold and ice boxes were full of carefully labeled leftovers, each with detailed reheating instructions, and Char had trained enough people on the basic use of the kitchen, so he wasn’t too concerned about returning to a disaster. Char had also heard the day’s helpers were specifically chosen because they were competent in the kitchen since Char wasn’t going to be around again until after the dinner rush to supervise.

Karl, Shan, and Emily wandered in, and Karl immediately went over to Char while the other two held back, looking anxious.

“Today is an off day from school,” Karl began, standing back as Char pulled cooked bread from the oven and slotted in his last trays of raw. “And we made sure to finish our homework last night. Can we come with you to the city?”

“I can carry lots of stuffs for you!” Emily chimed in eagerly.

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