Oh My, I Messed Up the Story

I saw Al briefly at lunch but we didn't get to talk much and I was quickly whisked away by Madame Chalaise afterwards to continue my grueling lessons until mid-afternoon. She was not pleased that my visit with Mariela had lasted so long.

The first thing he did when I was freed was lean against the wall in front of me, eyeing me suspiciously.

"What exactly did you do?"

I frowned, feeling oddly wronged. "What do you mean? I didn't do anything."

"I have NEVER seen Franz and Mariela talk so much to each other at a meal before. They were off in their own little world. I saw Madame Chalaise earlier when you were supposed to be in a lesson and she said Mariela took you away for tea. You must have said something while you were there that caused this."

Well, he wasn't wrong, but I was baffled how he figured that out.

"I ran into Franz when I got lost before. I suggested he utilize his wife's brain, that's all. He barged in on us when we were talking and took my advice. I guess it went well."

"You guess it went well," he repeated dryly.

"Katie, Mariela has lived here for nearly a year and that is the most animated I have ever seen them. I know my brother. He's too wrapped up in his own business to even remember he has a wife half the time. That display of affection was borderline obnoxious."

I smiled, pleased with myself for being a successful matchmaker.

"It wasn't that bad. I think it's sweet. Your brother just doesn't have enough experience with women so he doesn't know how to treat one. He definitely likes her so why shouldn't they act like couples are supposed to?"

Al raised an eyebrow at me. "You think couples are supposed to act like that?"

I nearly forgot that this world didn't exactly have a concept of romance.

"I've already told you, I believe in love. They're married. Why shouldn't they try to improve their relationship and be happy together?"

"We're a couple," he said slowly. "Is that the sort of thing you want from me?"

The look I gave him clearly indicated that he was crazy.

"No way! We're only pretending. But someday…I'd like to have somebody look at me like that when we talk."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm the only person in the world," I said a bit dreamily.

Fiction had given me unrealistic standards. It was no wonder that I'd never had a boyfriend.

"He did come off that way, didn't he," Al muttered. "Good to know."

"What?"

"Nothing!" he said unconvincingly. "So, what are we going to do today?"

Anticipation shone in his gray eyes and he reminded me of a puppy waiting to be tossed a bone. I couldn't help but laugh.

Poor deprived Al was always so excited when I introduced him to things. It was starting to get difficult to come up with new, non-repetitive activities.

Something new… "Why don't I introduce you to the beauty of pizza? I'm sure Marcy could help us out."

He hopped away from the wall eagerly. "You never did tell me what pizza is."

"Only one of the best foods in existence," I exaggerated. "You haven't lived until you've had pizza."

"I look forward to your tutelage, Lady Katie," he said with a theatrical bow in my direction.

"Oh stop," I laughed and slugged him on the shoulder.

He wasn't surprised by my unladylike actions anymore.

I first mock punched him on the shoulder over a week ago and he had been completely taken aback. I had to explain that it was something people did to tease each other in the countryside.

We goofed off as we snuck down various hallways to the kitchen, stifling laughter the whole way so we wouldn't get caught. I was breathless by the time we got there.

"You certainly look lively today," Marcy said with a smile as she pulled a pan of eclairs out of the oven. "What can I do for you?"

"This is going to sound strange," I hedged, suddenly unsure if they even had all the ingredients needed in this world to make a pizza.

The burger had been miraculous enough even though it was under-seasoned and lacked condiments.

"There's something I would like to make and I need a little help."

"Describe it to me and I'll do my best," she said resolutely. "Anything for my favorite customers."

Al chuckled. "You're lucky the queen didn't hear that."

Her face paled immediately. "Your Highness, I didn't mean—"

"Relax. I'm teasing you."

I shot him a glare. That was mean. He noticed and hastily apologized.

"Don't worry about it," she said with a sigh of relief. "What do you want to make?"

"It starts with a bread-like dough that gets rolled out flat. It's only meant to rise a couple of inches and gets covered with a spice-filled tomato sauce, cheese, and various toppings. I don't know what kind of cheeses or spices would work though…"

"Why don't I show you what we have?" she offered generously.

Other kitchen workers eyed us warily for interrupting Marcy's work as we walked over to the pantry of sorts but none were willing to say anything. They were dealing with royalty after all.