Page 6 of Princesses & Pastries
"Yes, for the dancing. But the steward suggested that we also hire the acting troupe who performed for the King's birthday," Marion says.
"Oh." I think back to the event for a moment. "They were rather good." And watching a play is much less intense than listening to loud music the entire evening, so from my perspective, that doesn't sound too bad.
"What should I tell him?" Marion asks.
"Find out what they would perform," I respond. "I don't think we can make a decision until we know that."
"Of course." The scratch of the pen goes again as she writes on the page.
I should ask Veronica whether it would be considered rude for me to gift Marion a pen that I don't think would be as bad, instead of commenting on the sound I don't like.
"He also suggested fireworks. We still have some from the previous trade caravan from Shengda."
"They're always a spectacle," I respond. "Does Wafeland have a treaty with Shengda?"
"I don't believe so."
"Then we should do the fireworks. They will likely be something my cousins haven't seen before."
Marion nods and makes a note.
"Is there anything else?" I ask.
"Not at the moment," Marion says. "Unless you have any other things that you wish from me?"
"Would you tell the kitchen that I'm planning on baking tonight?" I ask.
"I shall do it when I speak to Chef Martina about the upcoming meetings for the banquet," she promises.
"But other than that, I don't believe I need anything." I haven't replied to Nate's letter, so there's no need for her to send one for me. I considered it, but as he'll already have left Wafeland, it's not going to get to him until he returns, and that seems like it would be a waste.
"If that's everything, I'll take my leave," Marion says.
I rise to my feet, allowing her to do the same. "Thank you, Marion."
She bows. "Your Highness."
It isn't until she leaves the room that I let out a sigh. I understand that I have to do this kind of thing in order to help with the smooth running of Falhaven, but it's intense, and I need a moment to collect myself before I move on to the next part of my day. Hopefully, no one will want too much from me for the rest of the afternoon.
Chapter 4
I sigh and dip my glass pen into my ink well. It's not the most practical tool for writing, but the sound it makes on the paper isn't as bad as some of the metal-tipped pens that are available. And I like the way my handwriting looks when I use it, which is another reason to stick with it.
I write notes on a sheet of paper for Marion about the banquet. We haven't met with the kitchen staff yet, so there are no menu notes, but there's still plenty to do with the entertainment and many of the other arrangements, including the seating plan. I had no idea how much planning went into the banquets and other events until my father assigned this to me as my job, saying that I should have responsibilities within the castle, just like my siblings do. Except for Ernest, but my youngest brother is only eleven, his main responsibility is behaving for his tutor.
There's a crack from the fire, and I look over to find Ember rearranging herself. She puts her head on one of the logs and lets out a dramatic sigh. I'm not sure if it's a dragon thing or an Ember thing, but she rearranges herself in the flames almost constantly. From the position she's in, it looks like she's asleep, or she certainly wants to be.
I ignore my dragon and turn my attention back to my correspondence, trying not to feel too frustrated about having to deal with it. I should be glad that my father is involving me in some aspect of running the castle, and that I don't have the responsibilities my older sister has as the Crown Princess. I would be terrible at that job.
I sigh and finish the notes, setting the sheet of paper to the side to let the ink dry before I seal it.
My mind wanders, and I find myself thinking about what I can make in the kitchens tonight. I really should try making croissants again before Nate arrives. If they go well, then I can show him that I've successfully made his recipe. If they don't, I'll be able to ask him for specific advice on what I'm doing wrong.
The door opens, and I look over to find my lady's maid entering the room with a basket under her arm. I've no idea what she's doing, but that's normal.
She freezes in place and looks at me with a confused expression on her face. "Oh, Your Highness, I didn't expect you to be here," Betsy says, dipping into a curtsy while balancing her basket.
I frown. "Why wouldn't I be here? These are my rooms."
