Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Snow burst into the kitchen that night just as Rosie was using a long wooden paddle to pull a miniature cake out of the oven. It was late, and as Rosie had been working in silence for an hour and a half, she startled so much that she nearly dropped the cake.
“You were attacked by a troll, and you didn’t tell me?” Snow demanded.
Rosie sighed as she gently slid the cake off the paddle onto the table and turned to face her twin. Even in the low light of the fire from the oven and the few candles that were lit, she could see the deep circles beneath her sister’s eyes.
“Hello to you, too,” she said dryly.
“This is serious, Rose!” Snow snapped.
“I tried to tell you,” Rosie said, examining the cake from the side. “But you’ve literally been with the queen for the last four days. You’re gone when I wake up, and you get back after I tuck Mother in. And yes, I might see you at supper now and then, but as soon as we’re done, you’re gone again.”
Snow crossed her arms. “When you said protection from trolls, I thought you meant in general! I didn’t realize you’d survived one! I sit next to you at supper! Why couldn’t you tell me then?”
Rosie raised one brow. “Would you like to discuss our troll problem at dinner with everyone there to listen in and give advice?” That, and Snow was generally engaged in conversation with the king or the queen or her betrothed.
The sisters had not shared a single private moment together for the better part of a week.
Snow glared at her, but Rosie just waved her off.
“And the troll didn’t attack me. I was the one who attacked her.”
“Her?” Snow echoed. Then she blinked. “Wait, you attacked a troll? With what weapon?” Based on the high pitch of her voice, Rosie’s twin would go into hysterics in a moment if Rosie didn’t calm her down.
“Yes, she. She is Frederick’s troll’s dear sister, come to avenge her departed brother.
And I used a rolling pin.” Rosie pinched off a tiny piece of cake, burning her fingers as she did.
But to her relief, the texture was perfect.
She’d been worried that working in the castle ovens and with their pans might change the way the cake rose. “Here. Taste this.”
Snow glowered at the cake for a moment. But just when Rosie began to wonder if she’d refused, she huffed. “I’m going back to my room. As soon as you’re done, meet me there.” She glanced down. “And bring the cake.”
Rosie smothered a smile. “Whatever you say.”
Twenty minutes later, Rosie carried the little cake–which was still too warm to frost–to her sister’s suite. She also carried a stack of several plates, upon which rested a little bowl of frosting.
“It’s about time,” Snow pouted when she opened the door to Rosie.
She had changed into a nightdress and had her fair hair pinned up in tight curls against her head.
Their mother was inside as well, already reclining on Snow’s bed and wearing her own nightdress. She would likely just sleep with Snow.
“Here,” Rosie said, putting the little cake and the bowl of frosting on Snow’s vanity.
“The cake is too warm for me to ice it decoratively, but you can still eat them together.” As she spoke, she took a small piece she’d sliced off and placed a spoonful of icing on it.
Making the icing had been a dream. Such fine, white sugar was difficult to find in their old village, and Rosie had only gotten to use it a few times for large events like weddings, when someone else was paying to have the ingredients brought in from one of the big cities.
Rosie put the little piece of frosted cake onto a plate and gave it to her mother. Then she gave another to Snow and took the third for herself.
“So about this troll,” Snow said, glaring at Rosie over her cake. “What exactly happened?”
Rosie cast a furtive glance at her mother, but Snow must have already told her, for while she was pale, she was also calm.
“It’s basically what I told you,” Rosie said with a shrug.
“The troll is the sister of the one who cursed Frederick, and she’s out for revenge.
” Rosie studied her cake. “She tried to attack Jonathan, since he was nearby, but he and Frederick are apparently protected by their fairy godmother now. I can only guess their fairy godmother placed a heightened protection spell on them both after Frederick got back. Anyway, after she couldn’t hurt the prince, she turned on me. ”
“But you didn’t kill her brother!” Rosie’s mother said, her voice indignant. “The prince did!”
“I guess I was next in line.” Rosie smiled slightly. “Of course, that was before I hit her on the head with a rolling pin. And then Jonathan threatened her with his enchanted sword.”
“Oh, Rosie.” Her mother put her free hand over her face and shook her head. “Why didn’t you just let the prince handle it if he had a sword? And an enchanted one at that!”
“She had temporarily separated us. So if you really want to give me protection, buy me a better rolling pin.” Rosie grinned. “I could have hit her harder if the one I’d had was made of marble!”
Snow chewed her cake thoughtfully. “So the princes are protected now. I’m very glad of that. But… what about us?” She cast Rosie a worried look. “I’m with Frederick most of the time, but what about you?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Rosie said. “If I have to, I’ll just start carrying kitchen utensils around with me. You’re the one I’m most concerned with, as it’s your wedding she’s threatened to avenge herself on.”
Snow froze, and their mother dropped her plate.
“Which,” Rosie continued calmly, “is why Prince Jonathan asked his fairy godmother to make you that necklace. And why he’s taking measures, from what I understand, to increase the security of the castle against the troll’s magic. Now, how is the cake? Ought I make anything different?”
“We’re not done with this conversation,” Snow said stiffly. “But that said…” Her frown changed to a reluctant grin as she looked down at her empty plate. “I love it.”
“I don’t know,” Rosie said, frowning down at the little bite left on her plate. “Something’s missing.”
“Cherries.”
Snow and Rosie turned to look at their mother.
“You need cherries,” their mother said again.
Her voice was soft but decided, and for a moment, it was almost like they had their mother back–the one from their dear cottage before the move to the castle.
But then her face paled again as she looked back up at Snow.
“But did the troll really… Did she really threaten the wedding?”
“She did,” Rosie said slowly. She would have to take care so as not to frighten their mother even more. “But Snow is going to be receiving a special protective necklace from the princes’ fairy godmother.”
“I have two daughters.” Their mother looked at Rosie reproachfully.
“I’ll be fine,” Rosie promised her. “Truly.” She grinned.
“Prince Jonathan has been quite proactive. Which just goes to show that all I need is a rolling pin.” She looked down at the crumbs on her plate.
“And, apparently, cherries.” Her mother was right, now that she thought about it.
Cherry juice would add the perfect tang to offset the sweetness of the sugar.
And if Rosie wasn’t mistaken, she had seen a row of cherry trees in the orchards.
“Well,” Snow said, still frowning slightly at Rosie. “I suppose we’ll see.”
Sure enough, the next day at supper, Prince Jonathan stood and raised his hands for everyone’s attention. The dining hall quieted, and when he spoke, his voice boomed confidently so that it echoed down the hall.
“There was an incident earlier this week that I need to bring to your attention,” he said. “A troll broke into the castle kitchens one night while Lady Rose was preparing for the wedding.”
The room burst into cries of protest and surprise, and Rosie was rather sure that one of the women swooned. Either that, or she had eaten too much of the spicy sausage. The poor lady was sweating so much that it was hard to tell the difference.
“Thankfully,” the prince said, speaking over the chaos and recapturing their attention, “the troll was chased away quickly. Which,” he said, smiling slightly as though something amused him, “I credit to Lady Rose.” He looked down at her.
“But… how?” someone demanded to know.
“With a rolling pin and a good thump on the head,” he said promptly.
“And for that,” Frederick said, standing as well, “we thank you.” He turned and looked down at Rosie. “Truly, we do,” he added softly with one of his kind smiles.
Rosie smiled back up at him, more thankful than ever that she was getting such a good brother through her sister’s marriage.
Many began to clap. Others looked scared, dazed, or confused. Rosie couldn’t see what the king and queen’s expressions were, as they were sitting a few seats to her left.
Lady Sandra, however, was scowling, and Miss Marianne’s gaze had narrowed.
But Rosie decided to ignore them and basked instead in the moment as Prince Jonathan began to describe the new security protocol he had organized to further protect them from the troll.
Afterward, several people congratulated her, and even more smiled. And Rosie heaved a deep sigh of relief. For the moment–even if it was just a moment–the court seemed to think that Rosie had gotten something right.