Page 23 of Dragons & Dumplings

I nod and carefully move each of them into the steamer, being careful not to let any of them fall. The last thing I want is to ruin the work we've done, especially when it's already taken a good amount of time.

Just a little more to wait and we'll be able to taste the rewards of our labour.

Chapter 10

I look longingly at the steamer, knowing that at any minute, the buns will have finished resting after their steam and we'll finally be able to taste them.

"I can feel your excitement," Nate says with amusement in his voice.

"Areyounot excited?" I ask. "I want to know if they'll taste right."

"I know you do, but they need a couple more minutes to rest. Maybe one of your notes on the recipe should be that the waiting makes you impatient." He leans over and taps the page of my journal where I've written the recipe down.

"It does not," I counter. "I know that it takes time to get good bakes."

"I'm just teasing, Evie," he promises.

"I know. I recognise it from when my siblings do it. At breakfast, Veronica was..." I trail off, realising that I don't really want to tell him what Veronica was teasing me about, especially because part of the conversation was about what I was and wasn't doing with Nate.

"Veronica was?" he prompts.

I clear my throat. "She was actually really helpful. She suggested that I ask the seamstresses for new chemises, but give my old ones to people in the village who might need them."

"I didn't realise you had a problem with them."

"That's because you mostly see me in day dresses," I respond, waving to the dress I'm wearing now. "It's not too bad when I'm wearing these because the fabric of the dress itself is softer. But when I'm wearing a formal gown, or worse, a dress for a ball, it's stiffer and it itches."

"Ah. Then it sounds like Veronica might have a good idea."

"She does, but you can't tell her that," I respond.

He laughs, but stops before he says anything else.

"Nate?"

"The hourglass is done," he says.

"Oh, good." I can feel the faint rumble of hunger, which is normal at this point in a bake. I love to eat what we make as well as make it.

He brings the steamer over to the table and sets it down before pulling off the lid. A waft of steam greets me, rising off the perfect white domes of the buns within and making them look even more enticing.

I pick the one closest to me, almost burning my fingers despite the fact that we switched the stove off about a quarter of an hour ago. I pull open the bun, surprised to find that the custard has gone a little runny inside, even if I know it's supposed to have.

Carefully, I take a bite, letting out a small moan as I taste the salty sweetness of the custard along with the fluffy bun around it. "That's so good."

"It is," Nate agrees, reaching for another one. "It's a good thing there are only seven."

I laugh and eat a second one for myself. My memory is going to have to serve for drawing the inside of the bun, because there won't be any left to draw from at this rate.

Custard dribbles down Nate's chin, and I do everything I can not to giggle at the sight. It's not the first time he's ended up with food on his face while the two of us are baking together, but it never fails to make me laugh.

"What?" Nate asks.

"You've made a mess." I grab a cloth and step closer to him, wiping it away without even thinking about it.

"Thanks."

"I didn't even get it all," I say, leaning in again and getting the rest of the custard. His warm brown eyes peer into mine, friendly and comforting all at once.

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