The Girl Who Cried Wolf: A Novella

Four

04 | f o u r

Mix. Pat. Knead. Roll. Bake.

That was her routine for an hour of baking. She had made cupcakes, scones, and muffins, all for the prince's birthday.

It was noon and the fat envelope had just been handed to her. Handsome indeed.

"Thank you, Mr. Linton," she appreciated the butler for the money. Oh yes, she was paid handsomely after all.

"You're most welcome, Red. I must say, your baking is spectacular, simply the best. The guests almost ate their own fingers," Mr. Linton commented.

She mentally gave herself a pat on the back. "All in the day's work. I'm just doing my job."

"Are you finished yet?" he asked surveying his surroundings for any leftovers. She had the last cupcake kept safely in her woven basket.

"Yes, I am. I will finish up the cleaning. Then I'll be on my way," she informed him, cheerily.

"Why clean? We have servants for that. You don't have to bother—"

"I made the mess, sir. I'll clean it up. No big deal." She shrugged and continued wiping the sufferable stain on the kitchen table.

"But Red—"

"I insist," she stated.

"Very well then. Carry on. I'll arrange for a carriage to drop you off." He was already headed for the door.

"But—"

"I insist," he used her own words against her and left the kitchen with a smile.

Mr. Linton was a nice man when he wasn't fretting over her trousers. He reminded her of her grandmother. Oh, how she missed her Nana.

"It's supposed to be my birthday and I've had nothing to eat. Who's in charge of the baking today?" A deep voice groaned from behind her, startling her.

His birthday? The prince!

"Your Majesty, we called for the services of a baker from the village for the ceremony," someone, probably a guard, informed him.

"Where is this baker?" the prince fumed again.

She turned around immediately. "Your Majesty." She bent low in an attempt to curtsy the proper way. She failed miserably.

"And who are you?" the man asked. His voice was firm and gravelly. It made her tummy tingle. Must have been the hunger. She hadn't tasted anything since the start of the day.

Red looked up from her bangs to behold the most handsome face she had ever looked upon. He was dressed regally in a black tieless suit. The top buttons of his button-down were undone, giving her a clear glimpse of his hard chest. The prince was just like the fairy tales described. Tall, breathtakingly gorgeous, with a lean, muscular frame. His hair was as dark as ebony with long locks falling on his face.

She locked gazes with his blue eyes, the colour of midnight but of course he couldn't see hers. "The baker you seek."

The prince stared at her for a while before he spoke again. "Leave us." He waved his hand dismissively to the guard who stood at his side with a spear in hand. The guard bowed curtly and left.

"I have a remnant of one last cupcake if you please," she offered with her head hung low.

"What is your name?" the prince asked out of the blue. She snapped her head up to meet his. His eyes wandered from her face to her muddy boots. She felt exposed under his heated gaze.