Page 3 of Dragons & Dumplings

"The ambassador said that I should keep it in a warm fire. I was wondering if I could put it in your oven?"

"Of course. I need to put the bread in the proving jar before I do anything else."

I nod and put the egg back in my pocket so that I can get it for him, setting the large brown pot on the workbench.

He folds the dough over on itself once more, before shaping it and lowering it gently into the pot. He covers it with a cloth and puts it back into position.

I wait patiently for him to wash his hands and come back, admiring the ease with which he moves around the kitchen as I do.

"All right, what have we got?" he asks.

"Dragon egg."

"Yes, you said that."

"Oh, no. That's it. A dragon egg and some vague instructions." I sigh and lean back against the workbench. "It was awful, I blurted out a question about what to do with it before I even said thank you. Mama is going to lecture me about etiquette tomorrow."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. You need to know how to look after a dragon."

"Exactly! That was what I said after I realised I'd made a mistake. That I just wanted to make sure that I looked after it properly. Ithinkthe ambassador believed me, but maybe he was just being polite."

"Can't you send a thank-you note, or something?"

"I'll do that too. Just in case. But I wish I was better at these things. I always seem to say the wrong thing." It's frustrating. Iwantto be a good princess and make my parents proud, but sometimes it feels as if it's impossible for me to achieve that.

"You haven't caused any political disasters yet, Evie, you're probably fine."

"That was before. I'm of age now, people are going to start talking if I can't manage to keep my tongue in check."

"You just need to keep yourself on safe subjects."

"I doubt the delegation from Shengda wants to hear my opinions on the different kinds of pastries," I murmur.

"Maybe not, but I do."

"Youknowall of my opinions on pastries." Mostly because he was there to form them with me.

"There's always time to gain more," he responds. "So, the dragon egg?"

I hand it to him without even thinking twice about it. I've known Nate for as long as I can remember, certainly from beforeI truly understood the difference between a princess and an apprentice pastry chef.

"It's very pretty," he says.

"It is. And it's supposed to stay in the fire in case it wants to hatch."

"And you want it to bethisfire?" he asks, looking over to the oven.

"If that's all right. I'd put it in the fire in my room, but there are so many people coming in and out that I barely know, whereas here, it'll be safe with you." Not many people use this part of the kitchen unless there's a huge banquet on. It's normally just Nate, and sometimes his father.

Nate's warm brown eyes fill with an emotion I can't name, but I know it's a good one. And that I like it when he looks at me like that. "Let me clear some space for it, then we can put it in." He hands the egg back to me so he can pull on some gloves.

There's a scraping sound as he moves some of the stones in the oven, and it doesn't take me long to realise he's making a little nest for my dragon. I look down at the egg, wondering what I'm going to do if it actually hatches. "Do you think we could teach it to bake?" I muse.

Nate steps back from the oven and raises an eyebrow. "The dragon?"

"Yes. Imagine what it would be like if you could get a dragon to flambé something for you. Or toast the top of meringues. Oh, or those custards that your father makes sometimes. What are they called again?"

"Crème brûlées," he responds.

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