Sympathy for the Demons (Promised to the Demons #1) - Lidiya Foxglove Page 0,36

had a rebellious streak and would have to be disciplined soon.

I reached the door and was greeted by a sweet fragrance and golden light in the windows of lanterns in the pathetically small cottage.

I must admit…the castle never looks or smells so…welcoming.

Well, I will feel much better once I disrupt their quiet evening and remind them who their master is.

I flung open the door and Jenny immediately looked toward me. “He’s home!” she said. “We can grill up the fish now! I made a cake for after dinner. I hope you like it. It’s an Italian cake and I’ll admit it’s unusual. Savory sweet…with the pine nuts from the forest here. But if you don’t like it I’ll make a chocolate one tomorrow. Oh—and did you catch these pheasants for tomorrow too?”

I had never seen anyone meet me so cheerfully.

“Cake? As if I care about a cake.”

“Everyone cares about a cake,” she said. “And you haven’t even tasted it yet. Taste it first and then decide, hm? I was going to make you wait until dinner, but now I’m nervous that you won’t like it, so here. Let’s just get it over with.” She quickly carved out a sliver and handed it to me right out of her palm.

i glared. Cake. “It isn’t your place to speak first when I come home,” I said.

Now Bevan slowly got up from the chair where he was sitting and gave me a look that was cautious…but threatening, too. As if he could threaten me. An eyebrow lifted. Just try the cake.

I took the cake, just to get it over with.

The warm, complex flavor of the woodland, of honey and the buttery wildness of the pine, the warm velvet liquid of the olives…and then, a little bright kiss of lemon.

I had no love of angels, and yet…they sang such a beautiful song on my tongue that I was rendered—for just a moment—speechless. Never, in hundreds of years, had any cook of mine created such a dessert.

How dare she.

The little toad girl smiled. “He likes it,” she said, satisfied.

Chapter Seventeen

Jenny

Despite the tension between Bevan and Lord Variel, or perhaps more accurately, Lord Variel and everything in existence, I was very happy to be here. Lord Variel’s irritation with his turn in life was nothing compared to the eternal cloud of despair that clung to Bernard and his mother. Here, I was free. I could go out to gather pine nuts, or berries, or fish. And then there were those little private smiles that Bevan gave me, that seemed to say so much without saying a word. I was happy enough to be his apprentice, but I felt like something even more than that—a partner.

Bevan grilled the fish and roasted some potatoes in their jackets to go with it. The rest of my cake waited for afterward.

“Bevan, this looks delicious!” I said. “It all smells so good!”

“I’m not a bad cook,” he said. “I suppose a bachelor picks up a few tricks.”

Lord Variel looked at the fish like he hated it, even though he’d caught it himself. He burrowed his hand into his thick black hair and let out a low, threatening growl.

“What’s wrong, Lord Variel?” I asked.

“That cretinous winged snot in town really did curse me,” Lord Variel said. “He forbade me from eating any meat in Etherium for a year.”

“But you can eat fish during Lent,” I suggested. “So…is that meat?”

“I don’t think the high demon is Catholic,” Bevan said dryly.

“I’m not Catholic either. Am I? How would I know? I’m not actually sure what Lent is…” I overheard visitors mention a lot of things I didn’t really understand, and since I had to go to my room when anyone visited Mrs. Franch, I would never find out.

“The semantics hardly matter,” Lord Variel said. “I was cursed by a nobody, and if I can’t have meat, what can I eat?”

“All sorts of things,” I said. “Like these delicious potatoes with butter.”

“They’re just potatoes. Hardly even food!” He grabbed the fish from the center of the table and took the entire thing outside and flung it into the woods.

“Okayyy,” Bevan said under his breath.

I almost giggled but I had trained myself over the years not to giggle at inappropriate times.

Variel ducked back in through the door, scraping his horns on the doorframe anyway. “Damn this door!” he cursed. “I really was too easy on those Ethereals. I will remedy that tomorrow, I assure you, and when they’re dead, the curse will be broken and we