The Prince of the Republic

Chapter One

Prince of the Republic, that was what the servants called him.

His extravagant outfits and ignorant attitude left every Cookie on the island either jealous or angry at the young Cookie's privilege and place of power. While description alone was enough for all other Cookies to understand who he is, some required to be told of him by name: Royal Milk Tea Cookie.

Seemingly arriving out of nowhere, the blue and white-adorned heir to the throne of House Oyster had gained a name for himself very quickly after Oyster Cookie introduced her only son. He was happy and easygoing, proud to please his mother with every task she assigned him. All the Cookies hated it. Oyster Cookie had not shown any signs of expecting a young heir, and yet here he was! Taking the throne and becoming a favorite child of the Convocation.

"Royal Milk Tea Cookie," Oyster Cookie would call across the manor. "Would you bring mother her morning tea?"

"Yes, mother!" Royal Milk Tea Cookie would respond, quickly making his way to the kitchen with a tray of mugs on it, presenting them all to his mother whom he admired dearly.

The servants and Cookies would spread rumors as far as they could before the Convocation of Elders would put a stop to it. Witches forbid that the name of House Oyster was plastered with the idea of nepotism and favoritism. House Custard owned those labels all for themself, already.

Houses Oyster, Custard, and Mille-feuille were the top-reigning Elders in the Crème Republic. They provided some of the most valuable assets, along with the most promising trio of young Cookies that would soon represent the Republic once they had grown to replace their parents and mentors. They could not allow rumors of poor representation to dirty their reputations. Apart from House Custard, of course.

Clotted Cream Cookie, the son of House Custard's Elder, Custard Cookie, was being groomed to become the Consul of the Convocation of Elders. He was a beautiful Cookie, with a golden crust and cream-colored frosting hair. His father promised that nepotism was never going to be a factor in his training, though many Cookies suspected otherwise. Clotted Cream Cookie becoming the Consul was going to be based on skill alone, and if he wasn't able to show that he had the talent, Custard Cookie promised he would find a new heir to his plot.

Mille-feuille Cookie's pride and joy was Financier Cookie. She was similar to Clotted Cream Cookie in appearance, but couldn't be more different in her training and discipline. She respected Mille-feuille Cookie intensely, as well as the fellow paladin-rearing House Madeleine and the paladins it had trained so many years before her. Mille-feuille Cookie believed that Financier Cookie had been created in the exact image of the Witches themselves, though the Convocation would never suspect she meant anything other than a strange compliment.

The three children of the Republic were topics of constant controversy, though they were entirely oblivious to the fact. Instead of investing their lives in the stress of their predecessors, they decided to fraternize with lower-ranking crowds along with each other, especially when their parents would organize their monthly political meetings, bringing their charges with them.

"Come on, Financier Cookie! We're gonna be late to the party!" Clotted Cream Cookie called to his appointed guard. Financier Cookie's training had begun about one week prior to this gathering, and Mille-feuille Cookie and Custard Cookie had agreed her first appointment should be guarding the soon-to-be Consul.

"It's not a party, young sir. It's a meeting for all of our parents to discuss their, um, politics." Financier Cookie still wasn't exactly sure what her guardian did, but she felt she had to sound smart as a house-appointed paladin.

"Well, it sounds like a party! Plus Royal Milk Tea Cookie is waiting for us to get there. You know he gets lonely without any other kids in Oyster Manor!" Clotted Cream Cookie darted to the door of the aforementioned manor, where all the Elders were being ushered inside, having their coats, hats, and other accessories taken from them at the door.