Nadia had always been a talker, and so it was easy enough to keep his attention from inappropriately wandering. Mostly.

Ms. – no, most likely Miss, McPadraic. Allah. Trapped in a kitchen with the Sword of Damocles like a whipping boy for the king. At least Nadia was married. From what he could tell, England had even stronger divides amongst the classes and the sexes, well beyond the point of intentionally stifling their minds. The working class women he’d worked with were well enough, but upper class women...

His gaze turned on her as he set up his preparations, summoning this and that quietly in the background. Pretty thing. Probably never had dirt under her nails in her entire life. Probably couldn’t understand a word they’d been saying, either.

… His eyes slid to her again as he floured a board. She could speak sentences. Ambiguous sentences. Was that a spasm in her eye, or was he just projecting?

Better not let them catch him looking, even if he could do this with his eyes closed. He chopped the dough by magic, though corrected almonds in the centers by hand.



“I would hope!” Nadia laughed. “Merlin, that kind of school – ” she paused, having to remember to slow down, “it puts you in a different league. Gregorovitches instead of Wunderliches,” she sighed.

Alexandra would recognize ‘Wunderlich’ as her married last name.