His empress to Claim (Book Three)

12. Chapter Twelve.

I stood in the kitchen, determined to make things right with Dimitri after my reckless actions. With the scent of vanilla and flour filling the air, I meticulously measured out the ingredients for his favorite cake.

Although I lacked the expertise of a seasoned chef, my past as a princess had afforded me some training in the culinary arts.

But today was different. As I cracked the eggs into the mixing bowl, the worry in my heart wasn't solely about my attempt at baking. Dimitri hadn't come in this morning or kissed me goodbye as he always did. It was definitely not like him to be so distant.

My hands trembled as memories of his warm smile and tender gestures filled my mind. The memory of his goodbye kisses, soft and reassuring, was a stark contrast to the unease that now gnawed at me. Was he still upset with me for the danger I had put myself and our baby in? Was he avoiding me?

The thought of Dimitri avoiding me didn't sit well with me, he was my comfort place and now he was avoiding me like a plague leaving me feeling stressed and feeling sad.

The maids exchanged worried glances from their corner of the room. Their presence was a constant reminder of the delicate situation I had put myself in. They whispered among themselves, their voices tinged with fear, aware that if Dimitri discovered me in the kitchen, their jobs might hang in the balance.

"Please, Rena," Maria, the head maid, implored softly, her eyes pleading with me. "Let us handle this. If Master Dimitri finds out you're here, he might be furious."

I smiled weakly at Maria, appreciating her concern. "I know you're worried, but I need to do this. I need him to see that I'm truly sorry."

Tension hung in the air like a heavy cloud as I mixed the batter, the maids glancing nervously towards the doorway, as if expecting Dimitri's imposing figure to appear any moment.

Anna, a younger maid, spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. "But what if he fires us all because of this?"

My heart ached at the thought, but I couldn't let fear dictate my actions. "I'll take responsibility for my choices. Please, let me finish this."

As the cake began to take shape, the maids couldn't hide their concern. They exchanged more urgent glances, torn between their loyalty to me and their fear of the consequences. I could feel their silent plea for me to reconsider, to step back and let them take over.

But I couldn't stop now. Not when this cake symbolized my heartfelt apology, my desperate attempt to mend the rift I had caused between us. With each careful step, I poured my emotions into the cake, hoping that the sweetness would somehow convey the depth of my regret.

"Se Dimitri vede la sua donna incinta in cucina ci uccide, questo è un testardo che ci farà licenziare tutti."

(If Dimitri see's his pregnant woman in the kitchen he'll kill us, this one is a stubborn one that will get us all fired.)

I could hear the maid speaking in Italian and although I had no idea what they were saying I could tell the were worried with how their voices sounded.

As I continued to work on the cake, my heart raced when I heard footsteps approaching. Verona, Dimitri's mother, entered the kitchen, her expression a mix of disapproval and concern. "Rena, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Her voice held a sharp edge, and her gaze bore into me.

I swallowed hard, feeling a pang of anxiety at her presence. "I'm trying to make a cake for Dimitri," I replied, my tone respectful but determined.

Verona's eyes narrowed. "And you think that baking a cake will make everything right after the danger you put yourself and the baby in? Don't you think this will only aggravate him more?"