“Do I look like a mess? I did my best to wash up after my time in the kitchen. I was teaching your cook how to make my berry tart. He was annoyed about it being a French confection, but I do prefer the flakes and the sugar myself. Here, taste one.”
He blinked, jerking back when she lifted one from the tray. “I don’t think so.”
“You must be somewhat hungry. Supper isn’t for another couple of hours,” she reasoned.
It had been sugar on her lips.
Now that he realized what it was, now that she stood close enough to bring a tart to his mouth, he could see there was more sugar on her cheek. It felt like a childish, little secret. Her heart on her sleeve. A close look at the real her.
For all the tartness she liked to inject into her words, she could be sweet.
Sweet enough to eat.
“I don’t?—”
“I insist.”
She pushed the tart into his mouth as he was about to back up. Forced to accept the food, he grunted and hurriedly lifted his hands to catch the crumbs. She grinned triumphantly even as he gave her a stern look.
But then he had to taste the tart. Ripe raspberries covered in cream and sugar. A flaky crust that melted like butter on his tongue. A sharp sweetness that caressed his senses until he let out a small moan.
“Do you like it?” she asked hopefully, leaning in.
“It is rather sweet. I don’t care for sweets.” He caught himself when her face fell. “But this one is… It’s passable.”
He couldn’t think of a better word to say, his tongue growing knotted in the moment. Perhaps he should make amends. But Verity beamed like she understood what he meant.
“That’s practically praise from you,” she teased. “Will you eat the rest of it, then?”
“Yes, I suppose I will. Will you eat one with me?”
Her smile faded slightly before she shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ve already eaten too much. At least four. If I have another, I might burst.”
A short chuckle escaped him, surprising them both. He saw her eyes widen and her smile grow. But the sugar on her cheek remained.
“Hold still.”
“Why?” She froze as he lifted a hand to her face.
Unmoving, she studied his face while he gently swept his thumb across her cheek to wipe off the sugar. It had been quite a lot.
“Oh. Did you get it all?”
He continued watching her, though he couldn’t find anything else amiss with her face.
It was lovely. She was lovely, especially when she was happy. He wondered if she was happier here than in her old home.
Bringing his thumb to his lips, Tristan licked off the sugar. Sweet as ever. “I did. You should be more careful.”
A small squeak escaped Verity as she continued staring at him. Her eyes had widened, looking even bigger than usual. “All right.”
Then, she coughed and turned away. Or she jumped. It made him think of a rabbit running from a hare.
She crossed the room quickly, putting some distance between them. “I should… Perhaps I should wash up. I’ll take a bath. Supper time will be here before you know it. And I wouldn’t want to… to still be covered in sugar then. Would I?”
“I suppose not,” Tristan offered, uncertain how to answer such an odd question.
His heart stuttered as she gave a brief nod before disappearing.
