The Prince and the Pie Maker (The Rebel Royals 2)

Chapter One

The duck was overcooked, though no one mentioned it. Instead, every dinner guest continually raised their forks to their mouths with polite grimaces of appreciation. The potatoes were seasoned well-enough with pimentón. Although at the center, a few spuds were raw. The greens had been braised in a sauce peppered with azafrán and comino. But many stalks were soggy.

The Spanish spices hadn’t hidden the flaws. Especially not for a palate that had savored the paprika fruit straight from the vine in its native land of Mexico. Furthermore, the strong metallic notes of the saffron hinted that the flowers had been harvested far from its Mediterranean roots. And the cumin seeds, which had a distinct warming flavor when plucked from its native soil in Iran, were decidedly lukewarm.

The visiting Catalonian chef puffed up his chest as though he’d made a meal fit for a king. In truth, the King of Cordoba wore a smile that said he quite enjoyed the meal. But for the second son of Cordoba, the meal lacked a certain innovation and fusion that the worldly prince had grown accustomed to.

Prince Alexander had traveled the world over in search of the perfect bite of food. There wasn’t a plant he hadn’t tried, a spice he couldn’t stomach, nor a part of an animal he wouldn’t take a bite out of. Alex’s years of culinary adventure and exploration had been the envy of, and later the model of, the likes of a certain travel chef that also had no reservations.

The fare at the palace state dinner was fine, which was great for fine dining. But Alex knew that food could be an adventure. Too bad he wasn’t let into the castle’s main kitchen. From an early age, his parents had frowned at his culinary skill and later outright banned him from the scullery. Sitting at the dining table as the doors to the kitchen opened and closed Alex felt like a duck. On the surface, he was calm, cool, and collected; the perfect prince charming for the guests seated around him. But, if anyone poked their head beneath the surface, they’d see his foot tapping out an anxious rhythm.

Alex wanted to return to the small kitchenette in his wing of the castle and grab a few ingredients. With his spices in tow, he wanted to go into the main kitchen and add a dash of cane sugar to the potatoes. He wanted to replace the water in the pot of greens with grapeseed oil to compliment the warm notes of the saffron and cumin. He wished he could’ve taken the meat out just a few minutes early.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Just like the tough skin on the duck, Alex had learned to toughen up and hide behind a brawny exterior that sheltered a complex interior.

The clinking of glasses brought Alex’s attention around. He watched as his brother, King Leonidas stood to address his gathered guests.

Like Alex, Leo was dressed in partial regalia. A suit and his sash and medals, but not his crown. The royals only brought that out for formal events, and this was just one of many state dinners.

Alex’s presence wasn’t mandatory. He’d come because he wanted to try the fare of the Spanish chef. So far, he was underwhelmed and wished he’d stayed upstairs and prepared his own meal.

“It has been a momentous couple of months for our great nation,” said Leo. “We have forged a new partnership that has already put many Cordovians back to work.”

Leo nodded to the Spanish Duchess who had almost been Alex’s new sister-in-law. Lady Teresa smiled back at her almost-been fiancé. Though she hadn’t gained a crown, Lady Teresa had no hard feelings. Her partnership with the country would net her millions, and that was far more of a dream come true than marrying royalty for a modern woman such as her.

Leo turned to his right and gazed down at the love of his life. “And soon, I will solidify my greatest partnership, and Cordoba will have a new queen.”

Esme gazed back up at her fiancé, the same look of love in her eyes. The two looked at each other as though they were a three course dessert meal.

Far from what was believed of him, the sight of true love didn’t turn Alex’s stomach. His heart was overjoyed to see his brother in such a state of bliss. It just wasn’t something Alex ever cared to experience for himself.

He could never understand having the same meal twice in a row. So why would he ever have the same woman more than once? There were so many new dishes to try, new food combinations to mix, new spices to add to the side dishes. It would take a lifetime to try them all, and that’s exactly what Alex wanted to do with his life. Spice it up every day.

“And here’s to my future husband,” said Esme, “the love of my life, the slayer of dragons, the king of my dreams brought into reality.”

There was an uncomfortable clearing of throats around the room. Royals and dignitaries weren’t accustomed to showing emotion in public. But Esme was neither royal nor Cordovian. One of the many reasons Alex liked her so much. That and her flairs for the colorful, fairytale dramatics she brought into the once starch-white palace.

“Hear, hear.” Alex raised his glass and spoke into the wary silence.

Leo chuckled and followed suit. He clinked glasses with the queen of his heart and sipped, never taking his eyes off her. Soon, the others around the table raised their glass to the unconventional toast.

Esme was growing on the country. She’d visited a school and publicly gave advice. But instead of being affronted, the teachers actually listened to her ideas. Penelope was entirely in love with her soon to be stepmother, and the two were often gallivanting about the castle looking for fairies or other nonsensical creatures in the corners. Alex joined them a time or two and had great fun. But what he loved most about his new family member was the smile Esme put on his brother’s often serious face.

Yes, Esme was good for the country. She was changing things for the better. Forcing people to update their views on how things should be done and what could be. Unfortunately, Esme’s perceptions hadn’t colored every part of the kingdom.