"Esmera, there's something I need to tell you," said Tauram as he stood in front of the fridge, holding the door open. His white shirt's sleeves were rolled up in that distracting way, but Esmera somehow managed to tear her eyes from his forearms and bring them to his face.

Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of his solemnity. What was he going to say? Did it have anything to do with Esmera? With what Nuredir had told them about themselves today?

She gazed at Tauram, thinking how unfair it was of the icy fridge light to cast his cheekbones in such a favourable light, to glint off that pesky lock of black hair that kept falling over his forehead.

She shouldn't be thinking about how beautiful he was, not on a night like this, not after the day they had endured together, so she pushed the thought out of her mind. "Yeah?" she asked, cantering her focus on his nose, the least distracting part of him.

His eyes quickly drew her gaze back to them as they rested on her. "I know I promised you dinner, but..." —he gave a theatrical sigh— "there is no dinner."

"What do you mean?" Esmera scurried across the kitchen to him, frowning.

He stepped aside, gesturing at the inside of the fridge with a graceful hand. "I mean that there aren't any leftovers, and our cook has very callously abandoned us to go on a dinner date, in case you had forgotten."

Still frowning, Esmera peeked at the cold innards of the fridge. Sure, the shelves were empty of little bowls of curry, and those amazing momos Belaren had made were long finished, but there were ingredients to make something simple.

She looked back up at Tauram, who was studying her intently, expectantly, as if he was hoping she would conjure food up from somewhere. "Surely we can just cook something."

A smirk pulled at Tauram's mouth. Esmera elbowed him, even as she couldn't look away from him.

"Can you be serious for just one moment? We need food."

His face smoothed out with a solemn look that Esmera knew was mock serious. She had spent enough time with him to recognise it.

"I am always serious, Esmera, especially when it comes to food."

She rolled her eyes. She could name many instances where he was the opposite of serious. He was annoying and infuriating, and she shouldn't be at all amused by him, but she somehow was.

"Then how about you get serious about making some food?" She folded her arms over her chest, holding his gaze.

"I can't because I have a confession." He reached out for one of Esmera's curls mindlessly, twisting it around his finger as silence settled between them. Then, as if just remembering he was supposed to be speaking, Tauram cleared his throat. "I can't cook."

"So, let me get this straight." She blinked at him, pretending to ignore his hand as he withdrew it even as she was aware of little else. "You're a fully grown adult, and you can't cook? How did you survive all these years?"

Tauram answered with his characteristic half-smile. "I've only ever had people cooking for me. Since I moved to Arkōsāra, it was Belaren or takeout on the rare nights when he couldn't manage dinner. Perks of being royal, I guess."

Esmera shook her head. "It doesn't sound like that much of a perk if it renders you unable to cook for yourself."

"Touché." Tauram fought a smirk.

Esmera gazed at him in disbelief for a moment. She supposed he could afford to make light of this because he expected someone would come to his rescue as was always the case. Then she brightened because she was that someone. This was a chance for her to do something for Tauram in return for his kindness to her since she arrived in Milatanur.

A single, simple meal couldn't pay him back for giving her somewhere to stay, for all the other meals she'd had, for helping her reunite with Jammas, for making her laugh all the times she had least wanted to, but it was a start.

Esmera tilted her chin up. "Lucky for you, I know how to make a mean pasta." Her expertise with Italian cuisine was one of the few good things that had come from being married to Stephan.

"I have no doubt it is exceptional." Tauram gave Esmera that smirk that made her forget that he had said he wanted to keep his distance from her, that she had agreed to that. "It's a pity that we don't have pasta in Milatanur."

"Not even noodles?" Esmera's mind raced. She could adapt some of her recipes, she was sure, swop out spices and shuffle the ingredients around to make something Italian-inspired but with a Milatanuran flavour.

Tauram shook his head, his eyes never leaving her. "And certainly not the sauces you were used to cooking with in Arkōsāra."

Esmera's mouth fell open. How was she supposed to make dinner if she had nothing to work with?

She looked back into the fridge. There were ingredients to cook with, but they were mostly vegetables Esmera couldn't name and wouldn't know how to prepare. Even if there was meat in the freezer, there wouldn't be time to defrost and marinate it before she and Tauram both collapsed from starvation.

Her quick, desperate, hungry gaze scanned the fridge's shelves. "Well, you have bread, cheese, and butter, right?"

Tauram's dark eyes widened in mock horror. "Don't tell me you want to make grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner."

Esmera raised her eyebrows, indignant at his audacity. "Well, I'm sorry it's not the three-course meal you're used to, Your Highness, but it doesn't look like we have any other options."

Tauram considered that for a moment before conceding with a tilt of his head. "Yes, I guess you're right."

Esmera plucked a block of cheese wrapped in wax paper from the fridge. "You do know how to grate cheese, right?" She looked up at the prince.

Tauram took the cheese Esmera held out to him. "Of course. I'm sure even a langur can grate cheese, Esmera."

"But langurs don't have five-course meals prepared and served to them on silver platters, Tauram." Esmera mimicked the tone in which he had said her name, fighting a smile.

She ignored Tauram's eyes fixing themselves on her even as she was acutely aware of them. She took the loaf of bread and the tub of butter from its shelf before setting them both on the kitchen counter. "Any idea if there's a frying pan I can use?" she asked despite expecting the prince not to have an answer for her.

"There's one that Belaren would definitely not approve of you desecrating with grilled cheese." Tauram surprised Esmera, sliding a drawer open, withdrawing a frying pan from its depths, and offering it to her.

Esmera set the pan on the stove. "Serves him right for leaving us foodless."

Even so, she couldn't resent Belaren's night off. He had been taking care of Tauram for years and Esmera for days. He deserved a break to enjoy himself, to be served instead of doing the serving.

Esmera's retort earned her a soft chuckle from Tauram. She found herself smiling when she remembered that she should be frowning.

She had just bargained her unborn daughter away for a mere chance at defeating Ruagu, not even a guaranteed victory. She had just seen her entire family die before her eyes. Was she actually joking with the most annoying man she knew?

Esmera was, and even though it didn't seem right, she couldn't let go of this joy when she didn't know what the next day, let alone the future, held for them. She wanted this moment, this evening, to be her refuge from the unknown terrors awaiting her.

Esmera closed her eyes and memorised Tauram's laughter the way she had wanted to trap pretty tunes in a bottle before she learned that she could store them inside her head.

Tauram took a butter knife from the cutlery drawer and pressed it into Esmera's hand before taking two plates from the cupboard.

"So, you do know where to find things in your kitchen." Esmera took the plate Tauram offered her.

"I'm just lucky with my guesses is all." He grinned as he set his plate on the counter.

Esmera fought a smile as she watched him lope about the kitchen looking for the grater. It was almost funny that they had stayed in this cottage for almost a week and had eaten food made in this kitchen without having any idea where anything was.

Esmera should ridicule Tauram, this man who was born to rule a kingdom but couldn't even make his own food, a skill so many took for granted, but she couldn't. She could only admire his graceful gait, his elegant fingers as he opened each cupboard with no idea what lay inside it.

Maybe Nuredir knew that. Maybe that was why he was so sure that no matter what Esmera went through, no matter how hard the battle with Ruagu, how heavy the burden of their lost child, she would always find her way back to Tauram. Nobody else would be able to make her smile, let alone laugh after the deal they had made that afternoon, but he somehow did without trying.

With a flourish, Tauram removed the sparkling, steel grater from the shadowy recesses of a cupboard residing below the window that looked out into the night deepening around the mountains. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

"We shall."

It was an easy alliance as Esmera buttered the bread and Tauram grated the cheese beside her, his hands uncertain and unpractised and his elbow a small distance away from hers.

It was better than being alone in the kitchen, wishing she had four hands instead of two because Stephan kept popping his head through the door and asking how far she was with dinner. Esmera had teased Tauram for being unable to cook, but he made up for his inability with his enthusiasm, even with something as simple as grilled cheese.

Tauram handed her a mound of cheese ribbons, and she used them to fill the space between her buttered slices while he rewrapped the block of cheese that remained and tucked it back into the fridge. Her cheeks warmed as he studied her every movement intently, but she had made grilled cheese so many times in her life that it was impossible to mess up, even if she had stage fright.

Esmera set the first sandwich on the frying pan with a sizzle. As it toasted, the delicious aroma of salty cheese and crispy bread rose from it.

She took a deep breath, observing the thoughts the smell released in her mind like dust disturbed in an attic but not saying anything until Tauram did.

He cocked his head as he gazed at her. "A glass of litchi juice for your thoughts?"

Esmera raised her eyebrows. "You already promised me that just for joining you for dinner."

"Touché." He grinned, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter and bringing his face closer to Esmera's level. "How about a momo instead?"

Esmera looked away from him, concentrating on keeping her hand steady as she turned the grilled cheese sandwich, revealing the well-browned side. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Your Highness."

"Then what can I offer you for your thoughts, Lady Esmera?" He leaned closer to her. He smelt like the wind as it rushed between snow-covered trees.

Esmera's eyes flashed to him. There were many things she wanted from him, most of which were bad ideas and terrible suggestions. Maybe it was better, for Tauram's sake, that he didn't need to bribe Esmera with anything to get her to ease her secrets out of her even though she had told herself she was never opening up to anyone again.

Even so, she did like the sound of Belaren's dumplings. "I do actually take payment in momos."

"I'll request that Belaren prepare some for dinner tomorrow." Tauram nodded solemnly. "Now, your thoughts?"

She looked down at the frying pan, her smile softly lighted with nostalgia. "I was just thinking that this smell reminds me of eating grilled cheese and watching movies from a pillow fort when I was little." That was one of the many precious memories she had from her short time with the Thomas family.

Tauram tilted his head. "Well, I don't have movies, but I can make a pillow fort."

"Wait, so you don't need your servants to make it for you?" Esmera gasped in feigned astonishment.

Tauram leaned in, taking hold of Esmera's chin so she had no choice but to face him. "No, I don't, and if you don't believe me, I'll gladly prove it to you." His eyes rested on her mouth for just a moment before returning to hers, holding her gaze.

It was just a moment, but it was enough to turn Esmera's traitorous body breathless. "Then do it."

Tauram straightened to his full height. "I shall."

Judging from his tone, he meant business, but Esmera couldn't imagine a pillow fort in the sitting room with its fancy couches and soft little cushions. "Where are you going to build it?"

"In the conservatory. And we can look up at the stars instead of watching a movie." Tauram grinned.

Esmera couldn't help but smile at the thought of that. "That sounds wonderful."

"Prepare to be amazed." Tauram touched a kiss to Esmera's forehead, and before she could remind him that she was forbidden fruit and probably before he could remember that for himself, he left the kitchen.

He was a man who had endured so much but was still a child at heart. Maybe that's why Esmera's wounded soul was so drawn to him, this person of smirks and jokes and laughter despite all the hurt he had known too.

Esmera laid the first grilled cheese sandwich on its plate and then set the second one in the frying pan. The bread hissed as it toasted.

Tauram entered like a hurricane, opening the fridge to take out the glass bottle of litchi juice. He looked around and sighed his relief when he saw the glasses and tray left on the counter, easy for him to snatch up.

Esmera raised her eyebrows. "Done already?"

"Almost." Shooting a mysterious grin at her, Tauram disappeared again, more like a lazy summer storm than a hurricane now that he had to balance the silver tray with two empty glasses and a bottle of white-grey juice to fill them.

Esmera couldn't help but smile after him as she turned the second grilled cheese sandwich over. She had enjoyed the formal dinners they had shared, enjoying Belaren's cooking together, but there was something charming about what they were doing now, something joyful.

Something that took Esmera's mind off the horrors that she had seen today, the fateful bargains she had made and seen made, and there was nothing she wanted more. It was better to clear her mind before the big confrontation with Ruagu.

It had nothing to do with the fact that she liked being close to Tauram, as close as he'd let her be. Nothing at all.

Once the second grilled cheese sandwich was toasted equally on both sides, Esmera set it on its plate and carried both servings through the sitting room and to the observatory.

Tauram reclined inside a construction built from blankets and a sheet draped between two bookshelves and tiled with cushions and pillows, his back against the wall and his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Esmera stared at the prince's handiwork in wonder. It was better than anything she and the Thomases' daughter had ever built, even better than what Tauram had promised, she realised when he flipped a switch, and a row of fairy lights illuminated the sheet from inside. "Where did you get all this stuff?"

"I might've plundered the guest room, but it's mine to plunder, so I have no regrets." Tauram shuffled to the side to make room for Esmera.

Even so, she had to squeeze in beside him. far closer than they should be. Far closer than Tauram must've intended for them to be, given what he said earlier, but he said nothing as Esmera handed him his plate.

"Does this" —Tauram gestured at the pillow fort— "mean I'm forgiven for not being able to cook?"

Esmera fought a laugh with no success. "It does."

"You are most gracious, Lady Esmera." Tauram bit into his sandwich with a crunch. "Thank you, both for your forgiveness and for the best grilled cheese I've ever tasted. And you say you can't cook."

"Melting cheese on bread over a stove isn't cooking, Tauram." Esmera rolled her eyes to draw attention away from her warming cheeks. She shouldn't have bothered because Tauram wouldn't be able to see it under the faint fairy lights overhead, but to Esmera, the sensation was undeniable.

She took the first bite of her grilled cheese sandwich, and she had to agree with Tauram.

It was amazing because the bread had such a unique flavour, the cheese was so creamy, and the butter had the right balance of richness, all of which had nothing to do with the hands that had put them together no matter what Tauram said.

Esmera looked up at the stars sparkling in their celestial dance above, and she knew that she had never eaten grilled cheese on such a beautiful night and with such a beautiful person.