In Which Nanalie Is Promised a Good Sense for Eggs

July 13, 1178

It had been a late night, but rising early enough to make everyone breakfast was a habit that died hard. Nanalie stifled a yawn as she headed down the steps, trying to keep herself awake by debating what she would cook. The kids were probably sick of porridge. They hadn't had bacon in quite some time, but she didn't think her father had butchered a pig recently enough. Perhaps she could do something with eggs? Or berries, perhaps? Plain old bread was nothing special, but if she whipped up a quick jam...

She didn't get a chance to finish that thought. "Umm... what are you doing here?"

Chuckling, Garrett turned his head and greeted her with a smile. He had no upper lip to speak of, but he more than made up for it in chin. "Kiddo here seems to like playing with your sister, so I figured it was worth a shot stopping by. Lucky for us, both Thetis and your father were up--and lucky for me that you are too, now."

Nanalie figured she'd be better off not acknowledging that last bit. "Where is my father?"

"He went to collect some eggs." The man sprung to his feet and stepped around the couch, still grinning all the while. How he kept that up without exhausting the face muscles, she couldn't guess. "He's been out there for a while, though."

No doubt weighing eggs against each other and holding them right up to his eye and changing his mind time and time again. Nanalie rolled her eyes. "He takes egg selection a little too seriously."

Garrett laughed--again. What was that, exactly? He laughed more in five minutes than Nanalie laughed in entire days. Must've had some sort of strange snickering disease. "All the better for the lot of us, I'd say. By the way, thanks for helping out with my cousin's baby last night."

Eh?

Right. Garrett was Sparron's cousin. Of course, Garrett would have still thought Camaline was the mother... "Worked out well, with both your cousin's wife and Lady Arletta laboring in the same castle. Kind of a long night, though."

"You do look tired." He glanced her over quickly, but at least he had the tact not to comment on her summer nightgown. To think--of all the days not to dress before coming down! "Good news, though--when your father brings me those eggs, I'm making you breakfast."

Umm... "You cook?"

"Oh, yes. Rather well, actually." Hardly a thing most men--much less, knights--seemed to boast about. Then again, Garrett wasn't really 'most men'. "I spent half my childhood in the kitchens, scrounging around for spare cakes. God, I was fat."

Wiry thing like him? Nanalie snorted.

"No, really. Ask any of my cousins; you should have seen me before Uncle Octavius whipped me into shape. My horse had to ride me."

Of all the images with which to plague an exhausted mind. "I can't imagine that was comfortable."

He chuckled. Now that she thought about it, his voice wouldn't have sounded right without the constant interjections of folly. "Anyway. Not the point. Point is, I picked up a few tricks from my parents' chefs, and I'm about to make you and your family a damn good breakfast."

"Really."

"Cross my heart." Yeesh. She couldn't if she tried. "Your father's not the only man around with a sense for eggs."

Hmm. Odd wording, but in all of human history, he could hardly have been the first to make that claim. "I'll believe it when I taste it."

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