The Cruel King and The Captured Queen

Chapter 14 - Part 2 - Honey Cakes

The event was lovely, and after a long walk in the garden, it was a fitting end to the day. Retiring back to our rooms, I began pacing around feeling overwhelmed, and restless. My tongue feels as if it is swelling with the need to taste something. What that something is, is beyond me. I wander down into the kitchen, at this late hour, no one is out of their rooms. The only noise is in the shadows as servants disappear out of my sight.

Opening cupboards and checking what is available I see the ingredients to make a delicious treat that entices my itching tongue. With determination I begin to prepare, starting the fire, pulling out bowls, and ingredients. Slowly, the oven starts to warm the area in which I cook. Basking in the warmth, I crack my eggs and beat them in the bowl found under the table.

The silence is eerie, yet somehow comforting. Over the course of my stay here, I have learned to enjoy the quiet which is provided continuously for me. Slowly, I remember the winter nights I would bake for my family to warm the cottage: bread, muffins, scones. Anything of wheat was often done by me the night before.

"Claire?" Thaddeus's voice echoes in a whisper of confusion across the room.

Jumping from the startle, I grip the mug of honey in my hands tighter. Spinning around to see Thaddeus, squinting at me from the doorway.

"Thaddeus, you startled me," I breathe.

He looks around as if to see why I am here, "What are you doing up at this hour? You are frightening the servants."

Frightening them? I haven't seen any.

"I'm hungry," I dismiss his comment.

With a light chuckle, he moves to lean against the table, "Of course, the cravings, Margaret warned me of this."

"Cravings?" I ask him with a lifted brow, pouring the honey into the egg mixture.

"Your making sweets?" he smiles with a smooth knowing edge to it.

"Yes, I used to make honey cakes for Octavius's birthday. Would you like to try some?" I offer as I watch the ingredients thicken.

"You can bake?"

His shock in the matter reminds me of his status, and how much differently we were both raised.

"You forget who you're talking to," I remind him.

"Forgive me," his whispering voice hums.

I brightly smile up at him, "Care to learn?"

"I'm King. You shouldn't even be doing this, you are soon to be Queen," I shiver at the thought.

Why did none of this ever cross my mind? Yes, the thought of marrying a King is intimidating, and I knew I will be trapped in this castle forever. Yet never had I considered that marrying Thaddeus, would make me, a queen.

"I've agreed to nothing, Thaddeus," I warn him trying to distance myself from his life.

"Yet you still indulge in using informalities with me," he casually observes.

Opening the sack of flour, I scoop it into the mug. Turning my head back towards him, "would you even allow me to call you anything else?"

"Probably not, but I am King," he explains as I walk towards the table across from him, "What I decide goes. Now step away this work is messy."

Displeased with his demands, I pinch a bit of flour and toss it into his face.

Shock immediately crosses his features as he shouts, "Claire!"

He looks around the room as if his raised voice might have woken someone.

Dismissing his paranoia I order him, "You are now messy, come help. I'm hungry."