Page 58 of Must Love Scones and Secrets
I tried to imagine it—the weight of a crown, the expectations, the loneliness of being surrounded by people who saw only your position. How tempting would it be to pretend for a little while that you were free?
“I’d probably do exactly what he did,” I admitted reluctantly. “Though I’d like to think I’d have come clean before…well, you know. Before things got complicated.”
“Complicated meaning horizontal?” Winifred suggested innocently.
“Winifred!”
“What? I was young once, too, you know. But with your wings, would it be vertical?”
“Please stop.”
Winifred chuckled. “So, what will you do?”
“I don’t know.” I turned my teacup in my hands, watching the leaves swirl at the bottom. “He’s still a prince. His life is in Frostfjord. Mine is here.”
“Sometimes,” Winifred said softly, “love requires us to reimagine what we thought our lives would be.”
I looked around my kitchen: flour-dusted counters, shelves of spices and magical ingredients, stacks of recipe books. The Sconery was everything I’d worked for, my dream realized. Could I leave it behind for love? Would Bjorn even ask me to?
“He probably thinks I hate him now,” I said with a sigh.
“Then you should tell him otherwise,” Winifred suggested. “Don’t be prideful like Miss Beth,” she said with a grin, referring to the heroine ofCrown and Crumpets.
She was right, as usual. If there was any chance for Bjorn and me, one of us would have to be brave enough to reach out first. And since he’d probably convinced himself he’d ruined everything…
“I’ll go see him tomorrow,” I decided. “I deserve an explanation, and he deserves a chance to give one.”
Winifred smiled, satisfied. “Good. Now, what are you going to do with all these scones?”
For the first time in hours, I laughed. “I may have gotten a bit carried away.”
“A bit?” Winifred raised an eyebrow, looking around at the dozens of glowing pastries.
“Fine, I got a lot carried away.” I stood, feeling lighter than I had since Elder Thornberry exposed Bjorn’s secret. “Would you like to take some home? I’ll sell the rest tomorrow at a discount.”
As we wrapped up a few scones for Winifred, I felt a strange sense of peace settling over me. The hurt hadn’t disappeared but had transformed into something more nuanced.
“Winifred,” I said suddenly, “thank you.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “For what? Sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong? I do that for everyone in town.”
“For caring enough to stick your nose in,” I corrected her with a smile. “And for helping me see past my hurt to what really matters.”
“Well, someone has to keep you young people from making a mess of things. Life is too short for foolish pride and unnecessary misunderstandings.” She paused at the door. “And if you do marry him, I expect an invitation to the royal wedding. Front row, not stuck behind some giant ambassador from the Northern Reach.”
“I promise, Winnie.”
Winifred winked and then departed.
I locked up the shop and made my way upstairs to my apartment. Merry was curled up on my bed, his little horn still occasionally shooting tiny sparks—an aftereffect of the wild magic from earlier.
“What do you think, Mer-Mer?” I asked, scratching under his chin. “Should I give our prince another chance?”
Merry purred, his blue eyes blinking slowly at me.
“Very helpful.”
I caught sight of myself in the mirror and grimaced. Flour dusted my hair, cheeks, and apron. I looked like I’d lost a fight with a bakery.
