The Knight Queen

Un Jour En Paris (II)

   Ö̤N̤̈C̤̈Ë̤ they stepped in the hotel, the tantalizing aroma of freshly-baked goods washed their senses. Their entrance warranted them quite a number of stares as some of the customer's countenances registered recognition upon seeing Estelle. After a murmur floated in the air, men and women alike all bowed and curtsyed respectively in unison.

   "You may rise." Her voice rented the still air and a rustling of skirts was heard as the women got up from their reverences. Heads craned to take a look at the handsome young man behind her. He was unfamiliar to them and from the looks, they could tell he was a foreigner.

   "Bonjour!" Rafael enthusiastically greeted them in their mother tongue. They all sighed and got out of their rigid poses, slightly relaxing at his light mood. It was contagious.

   "Please, do go on with your activities. We are just customers here to-day. I simply do not wish to interrupt your morrow," the Queen said and mustered a light and earnest smile on her features to further reassure them. After seeing that, they went on buying and selling, as they had been doing before their entrance. The pair made their way to a solitary table at the corner, seeking to conceal themselves from the rest.

   "What can I get you, Votre Altesse?" A young, female waiter queried. She looked no lesser than seventeen.

   "Well, I would like a nice . . . Um . . . What do you call it? Ah! Un grande pain avec beurre et un tasse de café, s'il vous plaît (A big bread with butter and a cup of coffee, please)?" Rafael replied, his Troyent fluent and well-pronounced. The waiter nodded then turned to Estelle.

   "I'll have the same, merci," she replied and the waitress went off to give out their orders to the chef. In no less than two minutes, the waitress returned with a tray of their food in hand. She carefully placed it on their table and left after maneuvering a small curtsey.

   "What are we going to do after our breakfast?" Rafael asked as he casually ate a piece of bread and sipped on his coffee every once in a while. Meanwhile, Estelle ate her food with grace; the same grace she had in every little thing she did.

   "Since Paris is known for it's lovely pastry goods, I reckoned that we could go to a bakery and learn the art or cooking," she said.

   "I think that those lessons are more for you than for me, Star," he replied with a smarm grin on his face as he lightheartedly teased her.

   "Think what you may, tête de linotte," she inwardly insulted him, fully aware that he wouldn't understand. They finished their breakfasts and were satisfied. When they left, Estelle tried her best to stop the wonderful commoners to not bow, but, it seemed that they had an inclination of their own.

   The bakery they were going to learn in was just about a quarter-hour-walk. Thus, their advent was quick and they were greeted heartily by the head chef.

   "I do not know where to start on expressing my gratitude for choosing my bakery for your training, Votre Majesté," the chef -which had introduced himself as Chef Antoine- said, bowing for the umpteenth time since they met that matin.

   "Nay, we are grateful for hosting us on such short notice, Chef Antoine," the Queen replied, a smile in her voice but that didn't quite reach her countenance.

   "Right this way, Votre Majesté." They were then led towards the kitchen and grabbed two aprons from a coat hanger yonder. It was very spacious and filled with cooking items galore; from pots to pans and from silverware to ladels.

   "Nigh, what we are going to learn to-day is the mastery of cooking, a soufflé. I think, Votre Majesté, that you are quite well aware of how cumbersome it can be to make a soufflé. It requires gentleness, precision and most of all, patience. Let us commence." With that note, they tied their aprons on and grabbed the mixing bowl that was set in front of them.