Page 21 of A Cake of Cherries and Charm

“Don’t worry about me,” Rosie said. “If I have to, I’ll just start carrying kitchen utensils around with me. You’re the one I’m most concerned with, as it’s your wedding she’s threatened to avenge herself on.”

Snow froze, and their mother dropped her plate.

“Which,” Rosie continued calmly, “is why Prince Jonathan asked his fairy godmother to make you that necklace. And why he’s taking measures, from what I understand, to increase the security of the castle against the troll’s magic. Now, how is the cake? Ought I make anything different?”

“We’re not done with this conversation,” Snow said stiffly. “But that said…” Her frown changed to a reluctant grin as she looked down at her empty plate. “I love it.”

“I don’t know,” Rosie said, frowning down at the little bite left on her plate. “Something’s missing.”

“Cherries.”

Snow and Rosie turned to look at their mother.

“You need cherries,” their mother said again. Her voice was soft but decided, and for a moment, it was almost like they had their mother back–the one from their dear cottage before the move to the castle. But then her face paled again as she looked back up at Snow. “But did the troll really… Did she really threaten the wedding?”

“She did,” Rosie said slowly. She would have to take care so as not to frighten their mother even more. “But Snow is going to be receiving a special protective necklace from the princes’ fairy godmother.”

“I have two daughters.” Their mother looked at Rosie reproachfully.

“I’ll be fine,” Rosie promised her. “Truly.” She grinned. “Prince Jonathan has been quite proactive. Which just goes to show that all I need is a rolling pin.” She looked down at the crumbs on her plate. “And, apparently, cherries.” Her mother was right, now that she thought about it. Cherry juice would add the perfect tang to offset the sweetness of the sugar. And if Rosie wasn’t mistaken, she had seen a row of cherry trees in the orchards.

“Well,” Snow said, still frowning slightly at Rosie. “I suppose we’ll see.”

Sure enough, the next day at supper, Prince Jonathan stood and raised his hands for everyone’s attention. The dining hall quieted, and when he spoke, his voice boomed confidently so that it echoed down the hall.

“There was an incident earlier this week that I need to bring to your attention,” he said. “A troll broke into the castle kitchens one night while Lady Rose was preparing for the wedding.”

The room burst into cries of protest and surprise, and Rosie was rather sure that one of the women swooned. Either that, or she had eaten too much of the spicy sausage. The poor lady was sweating so much that it was hard to tell the difference.

“Thankfully,” the prince said, speaking over the chaos and recapturing their attention, “the troll was chased away quickly. Which,” he said, smiling slightly as though something amused him, “I credit to Lady Rose.” He looked down at her.

“But… how?” someone demanded to know.

“With a rolling pin and a good thump on the head,” he said promptly.

“And for that,” Frederick said, standing as well, “we thank you.” He turned and looked down at Rosie. “Truly, we do,” he added softly with one of his kind smiles.

Rosie smiled back up at him, more thankful than ever that she was getting such a good brother through her sister’s marriage.

Many began to clap. Others looked scared, dazed, or confused. Rosie couldn’t see what the king and queen’s expressions were, as they were sitting a few seats to her left.

Lady Sandra, however, was scowling, and Miss Marianne’s gaze had narrowed.

But Rosie decided to ignore them and basked instead in the moment as Prince Jonathan began to describe the new security protocol he had organized to further protect them from the troll.

Afterward, several people congratulated her, and even more smiled. And Rosie heaved a deep sigh of relief. For the moment–even if it was just a moment–the court seemed to think that Rosie had gotten something right.

Chapter

Ten

Unfortunately, it was but a moment that Rosie knew such peace. Two days later, that peace came crashing down when Madame Nadine sent a servant to summon Rosie to the kitchen before breakfast.

Rosie, yawning and barely awake, arrived at a scene of chaos. Flour covered the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling. Baskets of fruits, vegetables, potatoes, and corn had been dumped out onto the floor. Honey dripped from the baking tables, and one of the fires, which Rosie had learned were always kept burning, had gone out. Footprints–which were by no means human–ran all about the kitchen, preserved by the thick layer of flour that covered nearly the entire length of the room.

Countless servants rushed around to clean up the mess, but the moment Madame Nadine caught sight of Rosie standing in the doorway, she gestured impatiently for Rosie to join her. Carefully, Rosie made her way over, trying not to step on something that would make the mess worse.

“Read this!” the woman snapped, thrusting a piece of paper at Rosie.