Curses and Cream Puffs

Lena kicked herself awake with a gasp, then yelped when she fell onto the hard floor. Damien came hurrying to her side and she remembered where she was. Her heart was beating too fast and she sucked in a huge breath to try and calm down.

“What’s the matter?” Damien asked, helping her back onto the couch. “You were whimpering in your sleep and I was coming to wake you when you fell off the couch.”

“I was...it was just a dream,” Lena said, pressing a hand to her chest. “Just a bad dream. It was all the smoke...” Her head snapped up and she looked around wildly. “Where’s Duchess? Is she okay?”

“Shh, she’s fine. She was a little shaken up, she was here laying with you for most of the afternoon but she just started pestering me for something to eat.”

The little hare came hopping into the room then, snuggling down in Lena’s lap and cleaning her face with her little paws. Lena stroked her fur, relieved.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked.

“Just a couple of hours.”

Lena looked around. “It still smells so strongly of smoke in here.”

“That might be my fault,” Damien said, looking sheepish. “I tried making dinner but I’m not as good at it as you and I...sort of burned it.”

Lena pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “I can make something.”

“No, you need to rest,” Damien protested, catching her shoulders when she tried to stand up.

“I feel fine,” Lena said.

“No wife of mine is passing out from smoke inhalation and then getting up to make dinner.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “Then why don’t you help me? That way we can eat, and not burn the house down.”

“All right.”

Lena had him dispose of the guinea hen he’d charred to a crisp, and set him to work chopping vegetables for a stew instead. As she made the broth, she glanced over at his progress.

“How did you ever survive on your own?” she asked incredulously.

“What?” Damien looked affronted. Lena shook her head.

“Your chopping technique is all wrong. Look how huge this piece of carrot is compared to this one. Here, I’ll show you how to do it.” Lena bumped his arm out of the way, sliding in front of him and grabbing a different carrot.

“All right, put your hands here under mine. We’re going to make a decent vegetable chopper out of you. See, like this. Quick, even chops. You want them to be thin and all about the same size. That way they cook more evenly.”

They chopped in silence for a while, Lena helping him chop everything to her liking. She noticed a small faded scar on his right hand and brushed her thumb across it.

“Did you get this during training?” she asked.

“Yeah, I got a lot of bruises and a few scars sparring with Louis.”

“Why is he like that? So violent?”

She felt Damien shrug. “It’s the way we were raised, being taught to fight from an early age.”

“But you’re not like that,” Lena pointed out. “You said your father hates witches, so he must have raised you to hate them too. But you don’t seem to.”

“I guess I always thought of witches in a more abstract way. I’d never met one or fought one, not until I was sent after you. And you...weren’t what I expected.”

She’d been so focused on the vegetables that she hadn’t even thought about how close she was standing to Damien; her back pressed against his chest and her hands resting gently on top of his. She was suddenly very aware of these things and heat crawled up her neck.

“I think you’ve got the hang of it,” she said quietly, starting to lift her hands away. She realized they’d probably chopped up more vegetables than she really needed for the stew. Damien didn’t move right away as Lena started to turn and they wound up standing there in an awkward half-embrace, blinking at each other. Then Damien’s face turned as red as hers and he backed away slightly. Lena cleated her throat and smoothed her apron nervously.

“Well, I guess I should be thankful that your father sent you and not Louis,” she said finally. “I don’t think I’d be making dinner as his fake wife if he’d found me.” She dumped the vegetables into the broth with the beef and stirred it, trying not to make eye contact until her face returned to its normal color.

“Yeah, I’m glad he didn’t send Louis too,” Damien mumbled.

“I’m sorry though,” Lena added, “for taking over your house and putting you in this awkward position of pretending to be married.”

“It’s not so bad. You’re a way better cook than me, for starters. I’m not sure what I’m going to do when you leave.”

Lena paused her stirring; wondering if he’d sounded unhappy about her leaving. She must have imagined it though; he must want his peace and quiet back.

“Well I’m not leaving just yet,” she said. “I have to save the money, and find a suitable place, and your mother is so happy about us. It would devastate her if I up and left just like that, so I guess maybe I should stay a while longer. We’ll need a very good story if I’m going to disappear.”

“Right,” Damien agreed. “My mother adores you. She’d be very upset if you left.”

“Not to mention the whole town knows about it now,” Lena went on, sprinkling salt in the stew. “So there would definitely be rumors and gossip if I just moved out.”

“Definitely. There’s be gossip about it for months.”

“None of us would ever get a moments peace.”

“Not a moment.”

“And we have been working pretty well together on your assignments.”

“We make a great team.”

“So it’s really best if I just stay for now”.

“Right.”

Lena untied her apron and hung it up. “Well now that that’s settled, let’s eat.”