Page 44 of Until the End of Ever
More than twelve, less thanfifty. This was actual madness.
“All right. How long do we have?”
As the Saltzin-Regis’s pantry was as well stocked as The Royal Manor’s, I was only limited by my imagination. And for one night, everything else—the worry about my runes, the threat of an all-powerful shadow following me, my mother and her suitors—could be put aside.
“I’d say, about three hours before the guests arrive, four before they’re starved?”
I nodded, calculating proofing and resting times, to come up with a game plan. With their invite list, one cake wouldn’t do. It was hardly my first time handling more than one dessert, but I liked to be efficient.
Lucian had bribed Elias to follow him with the promise of more cookies, so that was a must—but cookies were easy and fast enough.
I could start on a sponge and use it as a base for cupcakes and at least one cake. Chocolate could never hurt.
All those options received a resounding “yes” but they just weren’t enough. Not when I’d started the day with bloody canelés. I needed something special…
All of a sudden, I had a plan, and a roughly estimated completion time of two hours and forty-five minutes—thirty, if I cheated on resting times with a little magic.
“I got this.”
Two hours and thirty-seven minutes later, there was a chocolate fondant, a lemon meringue tart, an apple pie, a completely out-of-season galette des rois—only because it was my favorite, and I wasn’t French, so no law said it had to be served in January—and a fresh strawberry cake resting around my centerpiece.
Kaelius walked away from his sauce long enough to stand in front of my tray, staring at the pyramid of delights. “Is that…”
“Choux à la creme. Hollow, light pastry, filled with a cr ème pâtissière. It’s a little like custard, but don’t tell the French. And then, there’s caramel holding it together,” I offered before he could ask. “They call it a croquembouche.”
He walked the length of my counter twice, to analyze it from every angle.
“I sense little to no magic.” He seemed confused. “How did you do all this in so little time?”
“I mean, there’s a bit.” I shrugged. “I cheat on the resting time for some of the pastries with cooling enchantments—and I put healing spells in my creme. No one has sued me for it yet. Literally everyone has minor aches and pains. They’re far more pleasant once they’re out of the way.”
Kaelius nodded twice, smacking his lips. “I’m only sorry it would be a shame to ruin the display before you get it out. I would love to try it.”
I smirked, uncovering the little basket of choux still the side of on my counter—along with cookies and cupcakes. No one needed those tonight.
“The caramel’s still on the hob.” Conspicuously, I whispered, “I do use magic to keep it liquid, but only a little.”
The man dashed to the hob to dab a choux in the pan, and like any baker, I watched for a reaction. I didn’t always nail everything, after all.
“Well.” Kaelius cleared his throat. “No one’s going to give a damn I nailed the bloody crust of my Wellington now, are they?”
He didn’t even sound mad about it.
“Hardly.” I grinned. “The Wellington looksdivine. Honestly; I like to bake, but I much prefer to eat savory food.I’mcertainly looking forward to it.”
“Good, good. Out of the kitchen, you genius! I’ll put everything in stasis. You go find Cassiopea; she’ll show you to aroom so you can freshen up. And tell her to lend you the little thing I got her on our hundredth anniversary, will you?”
That made me pause. “An anniversary gift? Oh, no, I couldn’t.”
I couldn’t imagine what Regises—or Saltzins—gave each other for century anniversaries. Islands, probably.
“You will, and that’s that.” He patted my cheek. “Go get changed.”
“I don’t have anything to wear. It’s fine, really.”
“Kleos, dear. You have flour on your nose, your hair, and your tits. Not something a gentleman should mention, but you pushed me, so here we are.”
I glanced down. “Oh. I suppose I should brush off.”
