should I stand here while the tea gets cold and you get more confused?”
“Coco.”
“Step aside. Roll in the cart for me, would you?”
Coco stepped inside and Charlie rolled the cart in behind her, positioning it near the seating area. As Coco sat down, she let out a long sigh and gestured to the cart. “Pour us some tea, Charlie, and have a seat.”
Everyone who worked in the kitchen knew how Coco liked her tea: strong black tea mixed to a light caramel color with milk and one sugar. It was almost a test of some kind to get her tea exactly right. The kitchen staff still held wagers whenever she asked someone to bring them some tea; rarely had anyone ever gotten it right.
Charlie was one of the few who had.
Coco took the tea Charlie handed her, took a sip, and nodded her approval. “I’m getting old, Charlie.”
Charlie almost tipped her own teacup at the brisk change of subject. “Oh?”
Coco nodded. “I won’t be in charge of this kitchen forever, and I need to find someone else who can run it.”
Someone new wouldn’t put up with what happened earlier, especially not to a member of the royal family. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.” Coco took another sip of the hot, sweet brew. “I want you for the job.”
Charlie, who had been in mid-sip herself, spluttered, sending drops of tea dribbling down her chin. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Charlie tried to grasp that, even while she dabbed the mess of her second accident of the day off her face and strained to keep it away from her pristine white chef’s coat. “But, but.”
“But what?”
“But, I can’t even carry a cake much less run a royal kitchen. I did just shove a cake into the Prince’s face.”
Coco put down her teacup and laughed, deep and rich. “Oh, don’t I know it. Never have seen such a sight.”
A blush warmed Charlie’s cheeks. “But that’s just it. No one will take me seriously now. I need to find a new position, somewhere else,” she ended in a low voice, almost to herself. Though she loathed the thought of leaving, she could not stand losing the respect of the people she worked with.
“I wouldn’t worry so much. The staff will talk, of course. It’s too good a story not to be told. They know, however, that we protect our own in this kitchen. We’re a family, and you became a part of that family, too, when you came here.”
Family . She barely knew what a family was. Besides Coco, there had only ever been one woman to show any kind of motherly affection for her, and that woman had not been her own mother. “I don’t know, Coco.”
Coco placed a warm hand on top of hers. You could tell from Coco’s hands that she had worked with them her whole life. Chopping, crushing, kneading, cooking, even cleaning – whatever needed to be done in the kitchen, she had done it. They were soft and slightly wrinkled with age, her fingers thick from years of manual labor and the mild form of diabetes she had. A grandmother’s hands, some might say.
Comforting hands.
“What if the royal family doesn’t approve? I did just, well, harm, their son.”
“I know them, and they’re fair people. They’ll overlook one accident, especially since the Prince wasn’t all that upset about it, but they won’t overlook a second.” Charlie nodded.
“All of the royals listen to me,” Coco continued. “They listen when I talk. All of those kids – even the heir to the throne, Prince Alexander – grew up under my own watch. They snuck in here asking for treats at all hours of the day and night. They still do – why else do you think Prince Nathaniel was down here?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
Coco picked up her tea again and sipped while she talked. “Think of it. I’m important to them, and they’re important to me. Now, with Prince Alexander getting ready to marry his lovely lady, and even
“Coco.”
“Step aside. Roll in the cart for me, would you?”
Coco stepped inside and Charlie rolled the cart in behind her, positioning it near the seating area. As Coco sat down, she let out a long sigh and gestured to the cart. “Pour us some tea, Charlie, and have a seat.”
Everyone who worked in the kitchen knew how Coco liked her tea: strong black tea mixed to a light caramel color with milk and one sugar. It was almost a test of some kind to get her tea exactly right. The kitchen staff still held wagers whenever she asked someone to bring them some tea; rarely had anyone ever gotten it right.
Charlie was one of the few who had.
Coco took the tea Charlie handed her, took a sip, and nodded her approval. “I’m getting old, Charlie.”
Charlie almost tipped her own teacup at the brisk change of subject. “Oh?”
Coco nodded. “I won’t be in charge of this kitchen forever, and I need to find someone else who can run it.”
Someone new wouldn’t put up with what happened earlier, especially not to a member of the royal family. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.” Coco took another sip of the hot, sweet brew. “I want you for the job.”
Charlie, who had been in mid-sip herself, spluttered, sending drops of tea dribbling down her chin. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Charlie tried to grasp that, even while she dabbed the mess of her second accident of the day off her face and strained to keep it away from her pristine white chef’s coat. “But, but.”
“But what?”
“But, I can’t even carry a cake much less run a royal kitchen. I did just shove a cake into the Prince’s face.”
Coco put down her teacup and laughed, deep and rich. “Oh, don’t I know it. Never have seen such a sight.”
A blush warmed Charlie’s cheeks. “But that’s just it. No one will take me seriously now. I need to find a new position, somewhere else,” she ended in a low voice, almost to herself. Though she loathed the thought of leaving, she could not stand losing the respect of the people she worked with.
“I wouldn’t worry so much. The staff will talk, of course. It’s too good a story not to be told. They know, however, that we protect our own in this kitchen. We’re a family, and you became a part of that family, too, when you came here.”
Family . She barely knew what a family was. Besides Coco, there had only ever been one woman to show any kind of motherly affection for her, and that woman had not been her own mother. “I don’t know, Coco.”
Coco placed a warm hand on top of hers. You could tell from Coco’s hands that she had worked with them her whole life. Chopping, crushing, kneading, cooking, even cleaning – whatever needed to be done in the kitchen, she had done it. They were soft and slightly wrinkled with age, her fingers thick from years of manual labor and the mild form of diabetes she had. A grandmother’s hands, some might say.
Comforting hands.
“What if the royal family doesn’t approve? I did just, well, harm, their son.”
“I know them, and they’re fair people. They’ll overlook one accident, especially since the Prince wasn’t all that upset about it, but they won’t overlook a second.” Charlie nodded.
“All of the royals listen to me,” Coco continued. “They listen when I talk. All of those kids – even the heir to the throne, Prince Alexander – grew up under my own watch. They snuck in here asking for treats at all hours of the day and night. They still do – why else do you think Prince Nathaniel was down here?”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
Coco picked up her tea again and sipped while she talked. “Think of it. I’m important to them, and they’re important to me. Now, with Prince Alexander getting ready to marry his lovely lady, and even
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