A Dove's Tale

Chapter 124

"How often did you and your mother have baking days?" Theresa asked. She was at the stove, stirring the wine mixture for the darioles while I worked on the pastry for the shells at a floured section of the marble countertop. The leavening for the échaudés was rising off to the side of my workstation.

"Only once or twice a year," I replied, turning out the ball of pastry dough and picking up a rolling pin. "We'd set a day with Mrs. Stotts, so we'd have two of everything to work with, and we'd make cakes, pies, and cookies, mostly. Nothing fancy like this."

"My family's tastes are pretty simple, too. I'd never even heard of darioles until I started working here."

"You two look like you're having fun."

The interruption of that silvery voice made my heart leap in my chest. "Nokto!" I exclaimed, dropping the rolling pin with a clatter and spinning away from the dough to run across the room and hug him.

"Ivetta-" he protested, his entire body tensing when I threw my arms around him. Then he sighed and relaxed, wrapping his arms around me, too. "You don't have to act so surprised. I wasn't dying."

"I'm not surprised," I said, giving him a light squeeze. "I'm relieved. You were really sick."

"Good to see you're not dead, Nokto," Theresa said. "Ivetta, this is about ready to boil."

"Oh, I need to roll the dough out," I said, releasing Nokto at Theresa's reminder, but I stopped to study his face first. Although he was still unnaturally pale, his crimson eyes were bright and smiling with the lazy curve of his lips. "How are you feeling?"

"Not dead," he said, taking me by the shoulder and turning me around. "Go roll out your dough."

"Okay, but you should sit down," I told him, sending a worried glance back at him as he followed me to the abandoned rolling pin.

"I won't be here that long," he replied. "New dress?"

"Oh, uh, yes," I said, looking down at it. The white apron I wore covered most of the front, but Nokto had a clear view of the dark green fabric from the back. It was soft, light, and immensely more comfortable than any of my fancy princess gowns. "Theresa and Belle gave it to me."

"It was supposed to be a present for after the engagement ceremony, but I thought she needed a pick-me-up," Theresa volunteered. "How's everything going with...you know?"

Nokto leaned his hip against the counter next to me, crossed his arms over his chest, and shrugged. "Fine. What are you two making?"

"Right now, darioles," I said, unwilling to press him about his evasive answer. "We already started échaudés, and I'm hoping it's hot enough that they'll be ready by evening, but we're also making beignets, a strawberry tart, honey cake, and for dinner, meatloaf."

He chuckled and shook his head. "You're something else, Ivetta. I'll spread the word, but don't expect to see everybody. Luke's still in Benitoite, Jin and Licht are out, and Chevalier and Clavis are..." He shrugged again and pushed off from the counter. "We're all busy."

"Oh, before you go," I said, stopping him. "Do you, um..." I glanced over at Theresa at the stove. Her green eyes met mine with a question. "Do you remember what you said last night? When you had a fever?"

He frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I wanted to ask you about that."

"So...you don't remember."

He shook his head.

I chewed my lip thoughtfully. "We'll have to talk about it later."

Theresa groaned in exasperation. "I can keep a secret, Ivetta."