Chapter 12

I'm not sure how much time has passed since my papa has left. I've carefully peeked into the pot a few times, not really being able to see much since there was so much steam coming from it. 

I would scowl, batting the steam from my face before placing the lid back on the pot. 

“Come on, Noémie.” I huffed to myself, “You got this.”

I carefully yanked the lid off the pot. As I impatiently waited for the steam to let up, watching as it drifted up into the air and disappeared, I tried to rack my brain to figure out what my papa could be making. He doesn’t usually cook with duck. I don’t think I can really remember a time when I’ve eaten duck.

Peeking into the pot, eyeing the dark liquid that simmered thickly in the bottom, I could only assume it was some sort of broth or unfinished stew. It smelled amazing. I could barely smell the diced vegetables that bobbed and weaved in the broth. The wave of spices mingled deliciously with a more prominent smell.   

I wasn’t entirely sure what the other smell was.

It kind of reminded me of chicken.

Shrugging to myself, I gave the broth one last peek before placing the lid, satisfied with what I saw. I still wasn’t sure what my papa was trying to create. I just knew that it smells amazing.

Hopefully, it tastes good too.

“I’m home!”

“I’m in the kitchen, dad!” I screamed back, gaze glued towards the simmering pot. 

“Noémie?” He called again. I patiently waited for him to join me in the kitchen, refusing to move until told to. I grumbled out a greeting when I heard him enter the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Papa had to go and grab some duck from the market. He told me to watch the pot until he gets back.” I answered. 

“I don’t think he meant to stare at it like that honey.” Dad said. Against my wishes, my dad scooped me up from the stool and placed me on the floor. As I turned to face him, a frown beginning to work its way to my lips, dad continued. “Your face is too close to the pot.

“The lid is on it.” I argued.

“You were still a little too close for my comfort.”

“You're such a dad.” I grumbled. I ignored his amused snort, finally noticing that someone else was in the kitchen. 

He was a bit taller than my brothers, looming over me with a deep scowl and a steely gaze. His skin was a smooth tan. A shade that isn’t all too common in our village. It complimented him well, though. It paired well with his silky black hair and brown eyes. His eyes were cold, a dark abyss of emptiness and iciness.

Pointing towards the boy, I asked my dad. “Who’s that?”

“Hm?” He turns to face the person I was pointing at. “Oh, right! This is the prince.” Taking a few steps back, my dad placed a careful hand on his shoulder. The boy glanced up at my dad, who smiled and motioned towards me. “Noémie, this is Kalen. Kalen, this is my daughter, Noémie.”

Pinching the ends of the apron, I lowered myself into a practiced curtsy. It was awkward and wobbly, but I thought I pulled it off well enough, especially in front of royalty. I smiled, “Hi!”

He nods.

As my dad turned his attention back towards the pot, happy with our first encounter, I stared at the boy in front of me. I didn’t notice it at first, the smell that was beginning to surround me. My sense of smell isn’t as advanced as my dad and brothers. It's far better than my papa’s, but I’m nowhere near as skilled as my other family are.

I know people have a signature scent. 

Unless I’m glued to their side, I usually can’t smell it.

And yet, I could smell him.

I knew it was coming from him. He’s just oozing……grapes. It was sweet, yet subtle all the same. I would even go as far to say it was comforting. Becoming more and more addicting everytime I inhaled.

It was odd.

Weird.      

“You smell weird.”