Page 41 of Royal Icing
She raised an eyebrow. “A nice fruit basket wouldn’t suffice?”
“She’s a guest in our country. Isn’t it my diplomatic duty to show her around and make her feel comfortable here?”
“I know you. Don’t get attached,” the queen warned. “We donotneed an American mucking up the bloodline. If you can’t control yourself, I’ll have to send her home. I’m sure Miss Farrell could handle it on her own with a couple of the sous chefs.”
His temper flared.Mucking up the bloodline?Threatening to fire Emma? Howdareshe? He opened his mouth, ready to retort, when the door opened and Beatrice stepped in.
He would save the verbal lashing for after she chose Emma’s idea. He came to stand behind his mother’s desk. She would never send Emma home after seeing her idea. Her ego wouldn’t allow it.
Beatrice curtsied. “Good morning, Your Majesty. Your Highness. Are you ready for your meeting with the bakers?”
Beatrice must have actively chosen to ignore the hostile vibes in the room.
The queen flipped the tabloid picture upside down on her desk and nodded. Maya and Emma entered the room. Maya strutted in and scanned the room, almost certainly looking for John. She pouted when she didn’t see him. Emma looked at Leo,and he nodded. Clarissa, one of the maids, was guarding the gingerbread house in the hallway.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Maya said, curtsying with a flourish. “We’re excited to present our ideas.”
Eleanor pressed her fingertips together. “Wonderful. What have you come up with?”
Maya pulled out a couple of clumsy drawings and laid them on the queen’s desk. “You can’t go wrong with a classic tiered cake. We can make a ten-layer cake that’s half as tall as your ballroom. We could make it in the colors of Lynoria or airbrush it with edible silver-and-gold paint. People will talk about it forever.”
The queen pressed her lips together. She wasn’t impressed. “And this one?”
“A map of Lynoria with an edible base—our customers love our blondies. We could map the landmarks and rivers with icing.” Maya seemed less sure of herself now that the cake idea hadn’t been met with enthusiasm.
“I see. And your final idea?”
“We could make a life-sized replica of Prince John out of individual macarons. Or any member of the royal family,” she added hurriedly.
The queen was silent for a moment. “Perhaps I was unclear,” she began.
Maya’s face fell.
“Oh, Your Majesty,” Emma piped up, “forgive the interruption. We have one more idea. A visual aid might be more helpful.”
Maya’s nostrils flared, and she glared at Emma.
Emma darted into the hallway and returned with a small gingerbread house, elaborately decorated. It even had what looked like stained glass windows. How had she pulled it off?
She put it on the desk and offered the queen a separate square of iced gingerbread to taste. “To capture the festive season and honor the illustrious history of Lynoria, we thought we could do a gingerbread replica of the castle, complete with a variety of desserts for the grounds. Everything will be edible, and whatever you want—tarts, macarons, cook—uh, biscuits.”
The queen leaned forward and looked at it. She nibbled on a corner of the gingerbread piece. The faintest hint of a smile appeared at the corner of her lips.
“Is that rosewater?”
Emma nodded.
“Very well. How big can you make it?”
“We can assemble it in the ballroom if necessary. I would estimate it could be at least a meter tall if we get the correct pans.”
The queen nodded. “Send your requests to the kitchen. We’ll source everything immediately. And you’ll still incorporate the croissants? My Ruby loves them so.”
“Of course. Anything you want,” Emma said.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Maya said with a frown.
Leo winked at Emma, and then they were gone.
