by Aya Ling
He did not answer her question. “Are you unhappy here, Valeria?”
“No, of course not. Well, I can’t say that I’ll miss the training. But I’m sure I will miss the fun I’ve had working in the kitchens.” Valeria sighed. “Don’t tell them, but I had fun bossing the kitchen staff around. And playing with Elaine, even if she is a little monkey. And you and Nadine—you have been such good friends to me. I’d have run home much sooner if you weren’t here.”
To her surprise, Ralph blushed. He did not speak for some time, as they passed by archery courts and practice grounds.
“Then why do you want to leave?” he said. “I…many people need you here.”
“Don’t worry; Pat has improved by leaps and bounds since I’ve arrived. And I told you that Mother just sent me here because she thought I could slim down and eventually find a husband. But that is obviously not going to happen.” Valeria held up a chubby hand. “She’ll definitely want me return home.”
Ralph was silent. He seemed lost in thought, so Valeria decided not to disturb him. The truth be told, she wanted to stay in Riviera a bit longer. But once her mother found out she was no longer training and serving as a food-taster instead, she was sure that her mother would make her go home immediately. There was no hope that she would become thin if she continued to stay in the kitchens.
As she had requested, Valeria was exempt from the Academy classes. Ralph insisted that she continue with the morning runs, saying that she needed to exercise instead of being cooped up in the kitchen all day. Valeria gave in, knowing that it was for her own good. Moreover, since she no longer had to squeeze her time between training and the kitchen, the morning run was much more tolerable.
As the preparations for Ralph’s birthday grew, rumors began to circulate that there would be a ball held after the birthday ceremony.
“It was the king’s idea,” Effie said. “Marianne told Bessie, who told Henrietta, who told me, that since there is little hope for the Tintagel princess, the king decided to have a grand ball and invite all eligible young ladies to attend, in hopes that His Highness will finally open his eyes and choose a bride.”
Valeria put down the chocolate torte she had been eating. “Pat, this is too bitter. Chocolate is good, but too much will make the taste bitter.”
“Isn’t it exciting?” Effie said excitedly, ignoring the bitter chocolate torte. “Henrietta says that a long, long time ago, there was also a Rivieran prince who found his bride in a ball. They say that she was wearing glass slippers! Imagine that!”
A kitchen maid walked past and happened to hear them. “I’d wager that all girls wanting the prince will be ordering glass shoes.”
“Well, I know that I won’t,” Valeria said, laughing. “With all the pounds I’ve gained, any glass slipper will certainly break.”
The announcement of the ball held for the crown prince caused a frenzy throughout the kingdom. Even many noble young women at the Academy were talking animatedly about what they should wear at the ball and complaining that they did not know how to dance.
Many girls sought out Prince James, Ralph’s younger brother, who had recently returned from his long stay in Makani. Prince James, as it was reported, was an eccentric young man who was more interested in animals than people, and therefore much less popular than his elder brother. However, for a brief time, James found himself the center of attention as girls badgered him for advice on attracting Ralph.
“Is there a particular color or style that His Highness favors?”
“Do you think an amount of clumsiness will be more endearing?”
To which Prince James would simply wink and tell them he was not at liberty to discuss Ralph’s preferences.
“Look at those young ladies at the Academy,” Winifred said, shaking her head. “They say that they don’t want to get married, but now they are jumping at the chance to wed the crown prince.”
Valeria shrugged. She was used to it by now; Lydia, for example, would put on a show of working hard when Ralph was present, but didn’t bother practicing once he was gone.
Suddenly, Effie came rushing inside, a letter in hand.
“It’s from the queen!” she reported excitedly. “Queen Jacinda, your mother, I mean.”
Valeria took the letter and opened it, disliking the task. Her eyes widened.
“She says that I should return to Amaranta immediately because Tintagel...the empress Salome has sent an invitation.”
Effie snatched the letter. Normally this was not permitted, considering Valeria was her mistress, but one might as well move mountains than prevent Effie from satisfying her curiosity.
“Oh! Oh!” Effie squealed. “I cannot believe it! The empress is interested in asking you to wed her son!”
A few people in the kitchens looked up. Winifred snatched the letter—an uncharacteristic gesture of her.
“She implied, Effie.” Valeria shook her head. “I do not know what the empress told Mother, but it must be greatly exaggerated. She only invited me because she was impressed with the sponge shells.”
“Oh, but there’s no doubt you left a very favorable impression,” Winifred said, grinning. Finally, someone had expressed a distinct interest in Valeria. “And it seems that the empress does not mind your figure, either.”
Valeria rolled her eyes. Was it not the empress’s son that mattered? Did they think that as long as Empress Salome wanted her as a daughter-in-law, Prince Felipe’s wishes could be completely overlooked? Besides, it sounded as if the empress only wanted her because she could improve Tintagel cuisine. As much as she loved cream puffs and crepes, Valeria did not like the idea of being married for practical purposes.
“So we’ll be going home!” Effie announced happily. “And then a trip to Tintagel! And maybe seeing Your Highness finally married off!”
“Wait,” Valeria said, folding up the letter. “I cannot simply leave right away. Don’t forget that I still need to oversee the Ralph’s birthday banquet and the dessert buffet. I don’t think it’s a good idea to drop everything and leave, just when I’ve promised them that I’d help.”
“But the empress, Your Highness!” Effie wailed. “This could be your only chance!”
“I know, Effie.” Valeria waved at a servant to bring her another appetizer. “But I have to keep my word.”
Was this an ideal solution, given that she was no longer training at the Academy? A possible marriage, which would please her mother, and the rest of her days spent in a place akin to food paradise. Yet she did not rejoice at such a perfect arrangement.
“Take a deep breath,” Effie instructed. “And turn around...”
Pop. A button rolled on the ground.
“Effie, I don’t think this is going to work.” Valeria lowered her arms. For the past hour, they had been trying to produce Valeria’s outfit for the ball. Unsurprisingly, the process was not going well. Thanks to the amount of food-tasting, the princess’s waist was probably three times larger than an average Rivieran girl’s. Once she overheard a squire saying that she resembled a walking hippo.
Winifred pursed her lips. “Perhaps a short jacket and a full skirt will be better. If you insist upon a form-clinging gown, it will only make Her Highness’s figure less flattering.”
Effie made a noise of dissent. “But Her Highness cannot wear a jacket in the ball! It’s ridiculous!”
True; Valeria herself also thought jackets should only be worn when one was outside in the cool night air. In the ballroom, where it should be likely warm with people dancing around, a jacket would seem unnecessary.
“Well, I suppose then I will just have to let my arms show.” Valeria looked in the mirror. No one can deny that there was plenty of flesh on her arms. “Even with the jacket, they are bound to look thick as a log, so it won’t make much difference if I show them bare.”
Effie looked skeptical. “But what will the Tintagel prince think? Is it possible that he will change his mind about you?”
“It’s t
he empress’s idea in the beginning,” Valeria pointed out. “Honestly speaking, don’t pin the hopes of me becoming the future Tintagel empress. A visit to their palace kitchens is good enough for me.”
Just then, Henrietta knocked on the door. “Princess Valeria? The head cook requests your assistance with the appetizers for the feast.”
“Certainly. Effie, bring my everyday gown,” Valeria said. “I’ve been telling him that the salmon tarts need to be cooked more thoroughly, so hopefully they have done better this time. I can still remember smelling the raw—”
“But, Your Highness!” Effie pleaded. “Your dress for the ball!”
“Oh, just copy the one I wore on my cousin’s wedding.” Valeria dismissed the matter with a perfunctory wave. “I’m sure that all the silk and lace you need will be available from the palace tailor. However, I’d appreciate it if you could prepare slippers with low heels.”
Effie and Winifred looked at each other and shuddered at the memory. A few years ago, at the wedding of Valeria’s cousin, Queen Jacinda had prepared a pair of exquisite satin slippers with shining bows and buckles, and the heels were three-inches tall. The spiky heels had snapped in half when Valeria put her weight on them. To this day, Queen Jacinda still mourned the loss of those slippers. They had cost a fortune.
Once Valeria was gone, Winifred placed a hand on Effie’s shoulder. “We’ll just do the best we can.”
Eight
“Your Highness!” Someone was shaking Valeria. “Wake up! The ceremony is starting in two hours!”
Two hours seemed a long time away. Valeria turned over, pulling her blankets up to her chin.
“Your Highness! The cakes are burnt!”
“What?” Valeria instantly sat up. “What cake? How long did you put them in the oven?”
“Told you that will wake her,” Winifred said dryly.
Effie was standing over her, anxiously biting her fingernails. Winifred was holding a frilly apple-green dress. The other two beds were empty; she assumed Nadine and Lydia had already left.
“We need to have you dressed as soon as possible,” Effie said, throwing off the blankets. “Even though you may disagree, we have to make you as presentable as possible.”
“There’s no need to hurry.”
“Nonsense. We don’t have enough time!” Effie brandished a tweezer and a makeup brush in the air. “And after the ceremony, you will change into another dress. We have everything planned.”
Valeria yawned. “I don’t see the necessity of getting into such a fuss, but I’ll give you a bag of gold if anyone flirts with me.”
“Don’t be so certain,” Winifred warned. “I’ve heard that fat is the fashion in some smaller countries, so possibly someone will ask you to dance.”
“Oh!” Effie brightened. “Then it wouldn’t matter so much even if the Tintagel prince isn’t interested in you! There is plenty of fish in the pond!”
Valeria sighed. The truth be told, she did not want other choices at all. But there was no way that Ralph would choose her for his bride. They were good friends, certainly, but a fat Rivieran queen was simply unimaginable. She remembered the archery contest.
The ceremony was a grand affair, though Valeria found it rather stiff and boring. For three hours straight, they had to listen to a dozen people congratulating Ralph. The Rivieran prime minister went into a long detailed history of Riviera, finally concluding that Ralph would continue the fine work done by his ancestors. Valeria could not wait until the banquet began; she barely had time for breakfast due to Effie’s makeup session, and she was starting to worry that her stomach might growl in protest during the ceremony.
Her mother caught up with her during the banquet.
“Valeria!”
“Mother.” Valeria gave her a tight hug. She had to acknowledge that she even missed her mother’s nagging.
Queen Jacinda surveyed her from head to foot. The truth be told, Valeria was even fatter than when she was in Amaranta, but somehow she looked prettier—bright curling hair, sparkling blue-gray eyes, rose-pink lips, and a glowing, healthy complexion from running every morning.
“Did you receive my letter?”
Valeria nodded.
“Well, I’m so thankful that the empress is interested in you.” Queen Jacinda looked around. “Where did she go? I just saw her a while ago with her son…”
Just at that moment, Henrietta hurried up to Valeria and whispered that Ferdinand needed some help in the kitchens. Apparently, a guest from Makani was complaining that his curry was not spicy enough.
“I’m sorry, Mother, but I must go now.”
“Where are you going?” Queen Jacinda said, trying to stop her.
“I will see you later. I promise.”
Valeria gathered her skirts and made her way towards the kitchen.
The day was exhausting. Once Valeria had finished making sure nothing went wrong with the banquet, it was time to oversee the dessert buffet.
This time, Pat had devoted his attention entirely to the baking, and the desserts were splendid to behold, especially an almond chocolate cake that Ralph had expressed a particular desire for. Valeria had spent several days trying to decide how the cake should be served.
The cake was a dream. Light and fluffy and fragrant with the smell of almonds and roses. Valeria decreed that the top should be heavily laden with chocolate curls, sugared rose petals, and chopped almonds. One of the assistants, Adam, managed such an artistic display of the curls and roses that even Valeria thought it a pity that the cake would be eaten.
“Now that’s a feast for the eyes,” Effie said, beaming.
It just happened that in the frenzy of preparations, a couple banana peels left from a banana cake were lying undiscovered on the ground. Adam, who picked up the cake and was suddenly hailed by Ferdinand for some instructions, did not notice and stepped on a peel.
Effie and several kitchen maids screamed.
The cake went flying in the air, crashed into a stack of dishes, and plopped on a table laden with crystal goblets.
A perfect disaster. Now not only was the beautiful topping ruined, but the cake actually broke into several large pieces from the smashing impact.
“You DUNCE!” Ferdinand roared. “Look at what you’ve done! Why don’t you just go and drown yourself in the well!”
“I guess we’ll just have to do without the cake,” Pat said, temporarily resorting back to his gloomy mode. He had taken so much effort to construct that almond chocolate cake. Adam was nearly in tears. He had hoped his artistic endeavors with decoration would garner him a pay raise. Now all he was going to get was a note of resignation.
The kitchen maids started to clean up the mess. Vestiges of the cake were scattered over the crystal goblets, making it difficult to clean. It was only fortune that the goblets did not smash on the ground from the impact of the flying cake.
Valeria, who was watching from a distance, suddenly had an idea.
“Stop.” She waddled over to the maids. “Keep the cake crumbs in the goblets. I have an idea. We can resurrect the cake.”
“What?” Ferdinand narrowed his eyes.
Valeria crossed to the table where the maimed cake lay and ordered the kitchen maids to do as she directed.
“Like a cracked cheesecake, we can cover up by adding fruit and jellies. How about this…” She thought for a while. “Pat, layer the bottom of the goblet with cake. Then add a layer of apple jelly. Put in another layer of cake. Top off with cherry preserves and a dollop of cream. Are there any chocolate curls left? We can use them as topping as well.”
The effect was magical. The layers, seen perfectly through the crystal, looked both beautiful and tempting. One could hardly tell that the cake layers were in fact made up of broken pieces.
All the kitchen staff gathered around to coo and admire the layered dessert served in the goblets.
“Oh!” Effie exclaimed. “They are so pretty!”
Valeria was already digging her
spoon into one. “Perhaps a bit more syrup,” she announced. So syrup was poured on the cake, moistening it, and thus rendering it even more indistinguishable as maimed.
“Excellent!” Ferdinand roared. “Let us serve the dessert right away. And mind, if anyone trips over THIS time, you can just pack up and leave.”
The kitchen staff trotted away, each taking extreme care to balance the goblets on the trays.
Now that the last dessert was safely conveyed away, Winifred touched Valeria’s arm. “Your Highness, we have to get you ready for the ball.”
Valeria was feeling very tired, but she nodded.
Winifred and Effie hurried her to an adjoining room, where they already had laid out another gown and makeup supplies. They freshened her lip balm, refashioned her hair, and zipped up the new gown. When Valeria headed towards the ballroom, the sky was already completely dark. She had not realized how time had passed so quickly.
The ball was set in a huge room glittering with crystal chandeliers, dazzling with the opulence of Riviera’s monarchy and splendor from the ladies’ attire. The atmosphere was lively and animated from the music played by the royal band and the graceful movements from those on the dance floor.
Valeria admired the colorful gowns for a while and then headed to the dessert buffet. It was set up in a distant corner and was just as she directed and imagined. There were chocolate truffles rolled in nuts and coconut, baked custards served in pretty egg-shaped cups, frozen yogurt topped with raisins and sliced fruit, multi-layered cakes cut in squares, Amarantan-style ricotta cheesecake with a dense pie crust and many others. There was also a three-tier stand of salmon tarts, bacon-wrapped asparagus, and small cheese pastries, as Valeria knew that some guests might need variation after consuming lots of dessert.
But what made the nobles stop and admire most was the layered almond cake and jellies served in the crystal goblets. They disappeared so quickly that Valeria was glad that she had saved one for herself earlier. She could not help but feel proud of her idea; without her, the cake would have been ruined.
