The Twelve Days of Christmas

Chapter 18

The next morning I woke feeling better. More determined than ever to be the best I could be, and that started with the baking contest. I would get ready and face the world with ease, as long as I focused on the end goal. My business, my parents’ legacy and my dream.

I put on my most comfortable and favourite joggers and a simple black tank top. I was past caring what anyone thought of my attire. Winning didn’t require looking good, but being comfortable in the kitchen might give me a better chance of working at my best. Scraping my hair up into a bun and foregoing makeup. There were some slight signs of the impact of the night before. The bags under my eyes were slightly darker than usual, but it wasn’t like they were absent before.

When I swung the door open, I found Ben stood stiffly, waiting for me. “Do you not sleep Ben? Agnes must feel very neglected with you lurking up here at all hours.” It was barely past six in the morning and I couldn’t imagine how anyone would consider it fair for him to be on duty at such an hour. I was only up because I wanted to get a head start. It was just one more thing to be annoyed with Alex about, me missing a whole day of prep work.

“You are, erm, perky this morning.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the way he sounded so disgusted at having to utter the word ‘perky’.

“It’s a beautiful day, Ben.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Oh, the day that I start my journey to winning this contest is exactly what I would consider as a beautiful day.”

He tutted at me, but I could see the smile he was trying to hide. Good old Ben always trying to pretend he didn’t care and was completely emotionless. “We better get you down to the kitchen then, hadn’t we?”

“Lead the way, Benjamin.” He did not look amused, but I didn’t care.

When Ben led me into the kitchen, it was a hive of activity. It was quite unexpected. There were chefs running around all over the place. One clearly making fresh bread, I recognised the kneading technique. Others were prepping vegetables, for lunch presumably. There was even one carefully squeezing pancake batter onto a griddle from a large bottle.

I hadn’t even considered that we would be in the main palace kitchen, although I wasn’t sure where else I expected to be. The good news was that I was the first contestant to have started work. I needed to make up for lost time and I couldn’t believe I had been so shortsighted. No man was worth more than my dreams. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

I wasted no time in getting my work station ready and just how I liked it. The night before had given me inspiration, if nothing else, and I knew exactly the shape my cake would take. I could see the end product in such detail, there was nothing left but to make it a reality.

I was so busy making decorations out of icing sugar that time flew by. It wasn’t until I felt a hand on my shoulder that I snapped out of my working trance. I turned to find Dylan watching over my shoulder. “You have quite the talent for modelling. I wish I was nearly as good. Instead, I will have to rely on my super fluffy cake recipe to beat you.”

“Good luck with that, Dylan. My recipes are pretty good too. What time is it?”

He pulled his sleeve up to reveal his watch. “Nearly nine. You have barely looked up since I got down here.”

“I need to make up for missing yesterday.” He lifted himself up on his arms and boosted himself up onto the metal side beside me.

“Now, seeing as you have brought it up, care to tell me what happened to you yesterday.”

“Nothing much. I was just feeling a bit off, nerves.” I focused on the task at hand and continued etching out the opening in the ballet slippers I was working on. Hoping that Dylan would let it drop there.

“Funny that. I heard you were dining with the King so you couldn’t have been that off. The prince hunters were all talking about it. They were incredulous about you getting an invitation. So which prince is trying to get in your batter?” I looked up at him and my face must have been a picture, because he started laughing. It wasn’t even a little laugh, but a roaring laughter.

“Neither prince, I have no idea how I ended up there, and I didn’t stay long, anyway.” It felt like more and more I was twisting the truth. It seemed to be a consequence of meeting Alex.

He slipped back down off the worktop. “Just be warned you are public enemy number one. Personally, I was impressed and fingers crossed it’s put the prince hunters off their game. I need all the help I can get to improve my chances.”

“I’m sure that isn’t true, Dylan. Have you decided on your theme yet?”

“Santa’s village, you?”

“The nutcracker.”

“Nice. Right, I better get on. Good luck.” I watched as he wandered off and turned my attention back to my work. I might have told him what my design was, but I wasn’t going to tell him the reason behind it. Sarah inspired me. Her love for pretty dresses and hair combs. She would be the perfect Clara. She certainly deserved her prince and to be in a wonderful land of make believe. I just hoped Agnes and Ben liked my tribute to their beloved Sarah.