Page 8 of Dragons & Dumplings

"I'm glad you think so, because if anyone found out that youdidn'tactually want the ingredients, I could lose my job."

"I won't tell a soul. And if it helps, Idowant the ingredients, so it's more that you knew exactly what I wanted before I wanted it."

He flashes me a grin that says he knew I was going to say that. "It does make it much easier to learn when I have a princess wanting to bake with me."

"I'm glad I can help. When can we make this?"

"Dinner is in an hour, so after that?" he suggests.

"I hope you realise that I'm going to be counting down the moments until I can sneak out of the dining hall."

"I wouldn't expect any less," he says with a lot of affection in his voice.

"How is the dragon egg getting along?" I ask.

"Well," he promises. "It did give my father a fright when he saw it this morning, he thought something had gone wrong in the oven overnight."

I cover my mouth to stop my laughter from escaping. "I'm sorry. I should have thought to send him a message about it."

Nate shrugs. "As soon as he realised it was yours, he shrugged it off and went back to baking pies for the picnic."

"Maybe I should have gone after all, your father's pork pies are delicious."

"There are still some left," he assures me. "And it's not going to be the last time he makes pork pies."

"True. They really are delicious. Do you know how to make them?"

He nods.

"Can you teach me? Not tonight, I know we have something else to try tonight. But later?"

"If that's what you want. It's a different kind of pastry than we've made before."

I nod. "Hot water crust, I read about it in one of the books I found in the library."

"I'm surprised there is one on pies there."

"Mama wants a copy of every book that has ever been printed in Falhaven," I respond. "She believes it's the only way to preserve the full history of the kingdom."

"Ah, so that's how you manage to get all of your books on baking."

"The ones from Falhaven, yes. Though I wish I had a library with all the books on baking from the other kingdoms."

"Perhaps you should say as much in front of some ambassadors, then they might start bringing you recipe books instead of dragon eggs as gifts," he says.

My eyes widen. "Do you think that would work?"

"I was joking, Evie."

"But it could work." I tap my fingers against the wood of my desk, feeling comfort from the repetitive motion.

"If it does, I'm not going to complain," he admits. "You never know what we might be able to find when it comes to new techniques."

"I'll see what I can do," I promise.

"All right. Well, I'd better get going, if Father discovers I've snuck out of the kitchens this close to dinner, I'll pay for it."

"Sorry."

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