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b . fawcett (onesweetlove) wrote in valesco,

She did not believe him for a second.

But, Bess did not particularly feel like risking the sanctuary of the room, so she let out a poor imitation of a disapproving sigh before hoisting herself up onto the linen dresser to pick at the hor d'oeuvres and other finger foods that remained on his dish. Even though she'd planned and set up the night, Bess had not been given much of a chance to try-out her own creations and found herself unsure if the mini salted caramel treacle tarts had too much salt.

No, they couldn't possibly. But maybe that was her own perfectionism coming through. She broke one in half and to capture her husband's attention, used her other hand to dance around the articles of the Prophet he was so keenly invested in.

"Are these too salty?" she asked, her one hand continuing to play on the page while the other pushed the tart toward Drystan's mouth. Bess twisted her lips to hold back her grin. "Be honest."