by Casey Lane
His last two words had been whispered so quietly, I wasn’t sure he intended me to hear them. But I had heard them and now I couldn’t stop playing them over and over in my mind. What had he meant? Was he going away somewhere?
Despite my brave words, I wasn’t sure I could make it through the last year of my apprenticeship without his encouragement and sympathy.
“Hanna! Hanna!” Brianna’s exaggerated sigh filled our small corner of the kitchen. She had long since lost patience with my abstraction.
I turned around to find her glaring at me.
“You’re supposed to be glazing these pastries.” She gestured to several trays of prepared delicacies waiting to be placed in the oven.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again and reached wearily for the eggs. Brianna was the one who was supposed to be glazing. I had already spent hours creating the simple pastries and the glazing had been the only task Master Girard had assigned to her. But there was no point in saying anything. He was sure to take her side regardless of the circumstances.
I had just finished the last one when John came to collect the trays for the oven. His eyes darted between the dripping brush in my hands and Brianna who was watching me work with a bored expression. She raised her eyebrows at him and he quickly smoothed the surprise from his face.
“Goodness, you’re running behind,” he said to me. “You’re going to have to learn to move a bit more quickly if you want to succeed as a pastry chef.” He looked at Brianna as he spoke and was rewarded with a big smile.
“It’s true,” she said to me, her tone sickly sweet. “I was just thinking the same thing but I didn’t like to say anything.”
I ignored them and gathered all the dishes together. When I reached the closest sink, one of the scullery maids gestured for me to leave them with her. I shook my head and began to wash. Brianna would only be more unbearable if she saw me passing off the work to someone else.
The girl shot me a sympathetic look but didn’t attempt to engage me in conversation. The maids had all learned that Brianna was marginally more bearable if she thought I was miserable.
I had finished cleaning up by the time the pastries came out of the oven. Master Girard appeared, apparently using the sixth sense that always informed him when baked goods were ready.
The three of us waited breathlessly as he sampled one of them. He took a long time to carefully consume all of the pastry before turning to us.
“A tolerable pastry,” he said and I had to suppress a proud smile. “The glazing in particular is excellent.” He beamed at Brianna and she thanked him with assumed modesty.
John threw a quick glance at me but luckily neither of the other two noticed. I had long ago learned to laugh at such ridiculous exchanges. I wondered if the glazing had really been well done. I was afraid I had skimped a little in my rush.
After a little more mutual admiration, Master Girard and Brianna swept out of the kitchen, accompanying the dessert on its way to the royal lunch.
John and I were left to the uninteresting task of baking a seemingly endless number of bread rolls for the evening meal. We worked together for some time in silence until I turned around and discovered he had disappeared. A quick look around the kitchen revealed that he had gone to socialize with the cook’s apprentices. I picked up my pace, knowing that Master Girard wouldn’t be interested in any excuses if I didn’t have the rolls ready in time.
As I worked, I once again dwelt on Stefan’s mysterious words. Tears pricked against my eyelids and I shook my head. Maybe I had misheard him. I was probably making a big deal out of nothing.
“Hanna! Hanna!” I was so deeply immersed in my thoughts that it took me a moment to realize someone was calling my name.
I looked up in time to see one of the younger scullery maids nearly crash into my bench. She was breathing so heavily it sounded as if she’d run through half the palace.
“Have you heard?” Her dramatic entrance brought the other scullery maids hurrying over to find out what the excitement was about.
My first thoughts rushed to Stefan but I quickly discarded them. Even if he was leaving, it wouldn’t be of particular interest to the scullery maids.
“Out with it, Joanne,” snapped one of the older girls.
Joanne’s enthusiasm was unabated by the harsh tone.
“It’s the earl and countess,” she said and I had to suppress a sigh. I didn’t want to offend her but I was getting a little sick of hearing about the Earl of Westforth’s big ball.
Ostensibly, the ball was an opportunity for the Northhelmian nobility to celebrate the upcoming coronation of the new king of Rangmere – a gesture of respect and goodwill towards the neighboring kingdom. But the buzz around the palace suggested an altogether different purpose.
“About the ball for their son,” she added unnecessarily.
Several of the other girls giggled behind their hands. Rumor said that the earl and his wife were throwing the ball to find a bride for their oldest son. The scullery maids thought it hugely romantic. I’d lost count of the number of times I had heard one of them murmur, “Imagine being chosen,” over a sink full of dishes.
Not that anyone from the kitchens would be attending, of course, except for Brianna, as she loved to remind us. For the rest of us it just meant a lot of extra work.
Joanne was looking at me with an expectant expression so I put as much interest into my face as I could manage.
“What about the ball?” I asked.
“Apparently someone told the countess that Master Girard has a senior apprentice from Rangmere. So now she and the earl have put in a special request that you make a Rangmeran dessert to be the centerpiece of the supper.”
I stared at her.
“Really?” I managed to squeeze out and several of the maids laughed.
A babble of voices expressed their delight and congratulations but I was still in shock. This was the chance of a lifetime. All of the nobility from across Northhelm would be present and if I could impress one of them, I might be offered a journeyman position in their kitchen. I couldn’t rely on Master Girard to recommend me to anyone so this might be my only opportunity to secure my future.
The thought of the pastry chef brought me back to reality.
“Do you think Master Girard will let me?” I asked the other girls.
Several of them looked hesitant but Joanne shook her head.
“He can’t refuse a special request from an earl. Especially not one as rich as the Earl of Westforth.”
I considered her words and my spirits lifted again. Master Girard’s desire to impress the nobility was one of the few things stronger than his dislike of me. I began thinking about the different things I could make. It would have to be something impressive. Preferably something most Northhelmians hadn’t seen before…
These new thoughts were much cheerier than my old ones and they kept me occupied for the rest of the day. Master Girard appeared in the early evening and repeated the news. He emphasized that I would have to complete all my normal duties on top of the special creation for the party and added that it would be subject to his final approval.
“I won’t allow anything inferior to be served at such an important function,” he said.
I nodded dutifully, keeping the joy off my face.
My excitement helped me to fly through the next few days. Between them, Brianna and Master Girard seemed to find an unending number of chores for me but the extra energy allowed me to complete them with goodwill.
It even allowed me to block out Brianna’s endless condescending comments about the ball and how fabulous it was going to be and how the earl’s son was sure to fall in love with her. She loved to emphasize the fact that the rest of us would be working but, thankfully, I was already good at ignoring her.
Every now and then I would catch the eye of one of the scullery maids and, depending on who it was, she would either roll her eyes or make a face. It helped to know I wasn’t the only one who found Bri
anna ridiculous.
Whenever my tormentor realized I wasn’t listening she would sniff and make a comment about how she couldn’t expect me to understand. What would I know about the nobility, after all?
I refrained from informing her that my best friend during my childhood in Rangmere had been Princess Ava. The information would just infuriate her and I felt too happy about my baking opportunity to be bothered dealing with her anger.
My only concern was Stefan. I hadn’t seen him in the kitchens since his ominous comment and with each day that passed I became more concerned.
I was dwelling on his absence while I cleaned the kitchen on the third evening. Well, that and the exact dimensions of the pastry tower I’d decided to make. The last of the scullery maids was drifting off towards bed when I heard a familiar voice in the doorway. My heart leaped.
He was calling a cheery goodnight to the departing girl and within moments had appeared in front of me. My joy at seeing him spilled over onto my face.
“Now there’s the smile I’m used to seeing!” He grinned back at me.
“Where have you been? I was starting to worry.” I tried to sound annoyed but didn’t quite manage it.
“Sorry.” He looked genuinely contrite. “I’ve been so busy I couldn’t get away. It’s this stupid ball tomorrow.”
He pulled a face and I winced in sympathy.
“It’s a lot of extra work, isn’t it? I suppose you’ll be on duty all night too.”
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s not the ball that’s bothering me really. It’s what comes afterwards.”
My mind instantly flew to his words from the other night. What was coming after the ball? I was desperate to ask but too scared to hear the answer. I just knew I was right. He was moving away.
Normally he was sensitive to my changing moods but now his gaze locked on one of the large ovens and he seemed to be wrestling with some thought.
His unusual distraction only fed my paranoia.
I decided I couldn’t bear the suspense after all. I closed the small gap between us and put my hand on his arm.
“Stefan, what is it?” My voice was quiet in the large, empty room.
He looked down at my hand for a long time and then up into my face. I nearly stepped back in shock at his tortured expression.
“It’s my family.” The words seemed to burst out of him.
It wasn’t what I was expecting – he never talked about his family. But perhaps they lived somewhere else and that was why he was moving.
“We have a…” He seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “A lot of people who look to us to take care of them. A lot of responsibilities. And my parents feel that I’m not taking mine seriously enough.”
My mental picture of a distant family changed into a picture of a large, dependent extended family somewhere in the city. I knew that many young people were expected to use their position and income to support elderly relatives or younger siblings and cousins.
“After the ball, everything is going to change. I won’t be able to come down here to visit you anymore.”
“What, never?” My voice came out as a squeak. I tried to clear it. “Surely you’ll still have some free time!”
“Yes, of course.” His expression became even more tortured in response to my distress. “But I’ll have…other responsibilities.”
I stared at him, my face frozen. What did he mean by ‘other’ responsibilities? Was I just another responsibility to him? A charity case? Keep up the spirits of the poor, misused apprentice.
I whipped my hand away from his arm and stumbled back several steps.
“Hanna, no!” He moved towards me, closing the distance between us again. “That came out wrong. Believe me, I’d much rather be here with you. But I can’t turn my back on my family or the people who need me. It’s an impossible choice!” He ran both hands through his hair this time.
I took a deep breath. It didn’t matter that my heart was breaking. If I truly loved him, I couldn’t make this any harder for him than it obviously already was.
“Of course.” I attempted a smile that came out a little twisted. “I understand. Your family and the people who need your support have to come first. I’ll miss you but I’ll be all right without you. I’ll finish my apprenticeship soon and be off to a new position anyway.” I tried another smile and this one came out a little bit more sincere.
“Oh, Hanna.”
The softness in his voice made my eyes fly to his. The intensity I found there startled me. I would have stepped back but his hands flew out and gripped my arms. He was standing so close now that I wasn’t sure if the warmth I felt came from his body heat or mine. I began to tremble but I couldn’t seem to unlock my gaze from his.
“You’re too good for me,” he breathed.
His eyes flicked down to my lips as his head began to dip towards mine.
A soft clang from the other side of the kitchens caused his head to shoot back up. He released me and stepped backwards, scanning the darkness.
“What was that?” His voice was ragged.
It had all happened too fast. I struggled to catch my breath.
“One...one of the cats.” I felt barely coherent.
He relaxed slightly and looked back at me. The intensity returned and then he groaned.
“What am I doing? I can’t do this.” He took one of my hands in both of his and I felt the contact burning into my skin.
He bowed his head and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand.
“Goodbye, Hanna.”
He was already gone from the kitchens before I fully registered his words.
I arrived in the kitchens even earlier than usual the next morning. My nervous energy wouldn’t let me sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel Stefan’s breath warm against my face. It was, quite literally, a dream come true. Except that none of those dreams had ever ended with the word goodbye.
My emotions still hadn’t decided if the whole thing had actually been a nightmare and it didn’t help that I needed to put all my attention into my pastry tower.
By the time the rest of the staff arrived, I had laid out all the ingredients and begun the initial preparations. Master Girard stopped to inspect my work but apparently could find nothing to criticize since he merely sniffed and moved on.
Brianna, on the other hand, looked far too pleased with herself. It made me nervous but there was nothing I could do about it so I kept working. By midmorning I had almost forgotten about her. Focusing intently on my work had proven the only way to shut out the other thoughts racing around my mind.
The loud series of bangs that broke my concentration attracted the attention of the entire kitchen. I looked up to see most of our work area covered in flour, broken eggs and broken dishes. I had never seen such a mess before.
Brianna stood in the middle of it, covered in flour and trembling with rage. She pointed a shaking finger at me.
“You, you clumsy oaf! How dare you!” Her voice rang through the shocked silence and brought Master Girard hurrying to her side.
“Look at what she did!” Brianna gestured to the mess all around her.
“Unacceptable!” Master Girard rounded on me. “You should have been more careful, Hanna. This is the worst possible day for your clumsiness.”
I just stared at him, too shocked to speak. I wasn’t clumsy and still had no idea what had happened.
“You will clean up this mess and redo Brianna’s ruined pastries before you return to your own work. Brianna will clearly need the rest of the day off to clean herself up and prepare for the ball.”
“But…”
“I don’t want to hear any excuses. If you value your apprenticeship, you’ll do as you’re told.”
I snapped my mouth shut and watched him sweep Brianna from the kitchens. Just as they reached the door, Brianna turned her head and shot me a satisfied smirk. Everything clicked into place and I suddenly understood her earlier satisfaction.
I gazed at the wreckage around me and then back at my own partially completed dessert. If I hurried, I might just be able to do Brianna’s baking as well as my own. But there was no way I could fit in the cleaning as well. The task was as impossible as Brianna had clearly meant it to be.
I sank down onto the floor and put my head in my hands. I was too numb to cry but I wasn’t sure my legs could hold me.
A nearby clattering brought me out of my self-pity. Several of the scullery maids had come over and begun to clean up the mess that Brianna had made.
I shot to my feet and held out my hands to stop them. “What are you doing?”
They already had double their normal workload due to the ball so they had no more time than I did.
The girl who had been sick earlier in the week met my eyes. “It was perfectly obvious you were nowhere near her. She’s just trying to ruin your chances for tonight.” She nodded towards my partially prepared pastries. “And we’re not going to let that happen.”
The other maids nodded in agreement. When I continued to stand there, too grateful to even speak, one of them nudged me.
“Well, hurry up then, we won’t be able to do the baking for you.”
My feet flew back towards my bench. “Thank you, thank you,” I called over my shoulder.
Even as my hands resumed their work, my eyes met John’s. The apprentice was watching me with an expression I found difficult to read. I stopped and put my hands on my hips.
“Well?” I asked, the challenge clear in my voice. He could cause trouble for me with Master Girard but I was sick of letting them tread all over me. I had hope again and I wasn’t going to let him get in my way.
John shrugged and the tiniest of smiles lit his eyes.
“None of my business,” he said.
I smiled in return and got back to work.
With so many helping hands, the work and the afternoon sped by. My feet and back ached and I hadn’t stopped to eat but the kitchen was clean and the baking done. I placed the last custard cream-filled pastry ball on the top of my tower and carefully drizzled the whole thing with melted chocolate.
