Royalty || Anakin Skywalker x Reader

31- Cupcakes

I see ALL comments and y'all better stop hating on my Anthony 😭

2.2k words

༻✦༺

Padme's POV
I hurried into the kitchens with far less grace than I would have preferred, the hem of my dress gathered in one hand, breath entirely lost by the time I reached the kitchen. I came to an abrupt stop there, palms braced against the wood of the counter as I struggled to steady myself, lungs burning as though I had crossed an open field rather than a palace corridor.

"My deepest apologies for being late," I said at last, lifting my head. "The Princess's hair was a catastrophe." The wind was certainly not her friend today, the updo I placed should hold throughout the night, even with winds.

King Anthony stood opposite the counter, sleeves already rolled to his forearms, his expression one of clear amusement, brows raised as his gaze swept over my disheveled state. "There is no need for apology," He replied warmly. "I arrived only moments ago."

I felt relieved that he was not bothered as I straightened, smoothing my gown back into place. It was then that I took in the scene properly. The worktable had already been prepared, flour set aside in precise portions, the eggs were resting in a shallow bowl, the butter was near the hearth. He had clearly taken the matter and the instructions I wrote out very seriously.

"You truly intend to do this yourself," I said, unable to keep the mild surprise from my voice and I instantly began to worry that my words could be taken offensively, "Not that there is anything wrong with that," I said quickly, "It is just not very common for a royal to—"

"Breathe," He answered with a soft chuckle. "If I am to give something to the children at the festival, I wish it to be made by my own hands. It would feel wrong otherwise." He was shifting the ingredients around on the counter, slightly moving the bowls although they stayed in the same space. He moved them barely a centimeter of anything. If I did not know any better I would say that he seemed nervous—he is probably afraid to mess them up or worse, "I would not want someone else to make them and I take credit, this feels better." He clarified.

My heart gave an unhelpful flutter at that. "They will treasure it all the more for that reason," I said, stepping closer and feeling slightly more confident now that my embarrassing outburst was done with. "Cupcakes are simple enough, though they require patience."

"I was told you by the Princess that possess an abundance of that virtue," He replied lightly. "I hoped the rumor might be true, because will definitely need some with me."

I smiled faintly, reaching for an apron and offering it to him. "Well, as long as you follow my instructions and do not get flour in my hair. All of this will turn out quite painless for you."

His laughter filled the kitchen as he accepted the apron with far less elegance than a king ought to possess. For a moment, he was not a king preparing for a public festival. He was simply a man wishing to do something kind with his own hands.

I admired that.

His gaze shifted then, lingering upon my gown with a crease of concern in his brows. "I must say, I feel terrible having you here dressed so beautifully. I would hate for you to ruin it on my account."

I glanced down at the fabric, then back to him, allowing a small smile. I reached for my apron and adjusted it carefully. "That is precisely what aprons are for, your Majesty."

He smiled at that, yet his attention did not return to the task as swiftly as it ought to have. I felt his eyes upon me as I moved, and he held a look that caused my pulse to stutter in a most inconvenient manner. My hands grew warm, faintly damp, and I got a bit angry with myself for it.