Page 43 of Until the End of Ever
“This is our son’s guest, Kleos. And Elias is a boy, darling,” Cassiopea clarified offhandedly.
“Boy, then!” he corrected himself easily.“Still beautiful. You’re going to break some hearts, hey?”
The dragon peeked at the cheerful man.
“Do you enjoy a good roast, Elias? I could whip up something else, I suppose, but with a small army descending to raid my food anon, that’s the easiest thing to cook.”
“Lucian mentioned—?” the boy started, in his strange words that still made sense, as he glanced at Lucian. “Potato?” he added in English.
“Ha! My famed roast potatoes, yes, yes.” Kaelius looked as smug as if someone had just offered him an awkward. “I don’t know what the fuss is about it, truly. I use three types of fat:goose, bacon, and olive oil. With rosemary and garlic. Any idiot could do the same.”
Wait, humility?
“Are you sure you’re related?” I whispered to Lucian, who bumped into my side.
“Are you questioning Cassiopea’s honor, Valesco?”
I swallowed. Never mind. I was not going to take that joke any further.
“Lucian, dear,” his mother called. “If you could, take Elias to your old room, show him around? Find some clothes if you still have some from those blessed days when you were shorter than me. I’ll get started on theinvitations.”
Confused as to whether I’d be more in the way if I followed the mother or son, I opted for a third course. “Happy to help. I could peel potatoes, or whatever you need,” I offered to Kaelius.
He laughed. “Out of the question, dear. Unless you consider making sure my glass never is empty helping.”
“You created a spell for that, Father,” Lucian reminded him as he walked towards one of the many opened arched doorway leading out of the main hall, Elias on his heels.
“I did, but if the young woman wants to feel helpful, let her pour drinks,” he replied, making it sound like it was a well-known adage.
And maybe it was in this part of town.
“She bakes, darling,” Cassiopea shouted from across the room.
I don’t know why, but I could imagine her penning elegant invitations with a fancy fountain pen, if not a quill and an inkpot. Instead, she’d seated herself on a comfortable armchair, and pulled a mobile phone out of her suit.
“My father said so, don’t you recall? So please give her some counter space and allow her to use your oven.”
“A baker?” Kaelius rubbed his palms together. “Just what we were missing. Go to work. You can have the right corner.”
I followed the enthusiastic man into his idea of a kitchen. It could have served as a ballroom in a pinch, if a counter or two was moved out of the way. With columns and arches and great windows giving a view of their light tree garden, it was the single most beautiful palace kitchen I’d ever seen.
There were a good hundred copper pans, large and small, and knives the size of my arm attached to the wall, and in the middle, a stove the size of a small car emitted no heat whatsoever, despite seeing great blue flames through a glass panel close to the floor.
By the gods, these people just could not donormal.
“How’s that ovenworking?” I mused, completely befuddled.
It looked as modern as mine. Hell, it looked futuristic, with a number of buttons and options I wouldn’t know what to do with on a side panel.
“Apologies, lovely. If you want that secret, you’ll have to join the family. But it’s intuitive enough. You can have the back, and I’ll take the front—we can stay out of each other’s way. Each level can be set at a different temperature, humidity, with some fans, or with a grill option. Whatever you need.” Never mind humble. He was showing off. I definitely recognized Lucian, after all. “Holler if you need help.”
The “right corner” I was offered was, naturally, around three times larger than all of my counter space at home.
“How many are we going to serve, you think?” I asked, trying to decide what I should bake tonight.
Cassiopea mentioned a few dozen; that could mean anything.
“Don’t know, no clue.” He shrugged, the picture of indifference. “More than twelve, less than fifty? There’s no such thing as too much food—we’ll put whatever’s left under a stasis charm and offer it in the town square on the morrow.”
