by Aya Ling
“Pardon me,” a voice said with a thick Tintagel accent. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but are you not Princess Valeria?”
A plump, jolly-looking young man stood near, with extremely curly blond hair, round blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. He smiled when Valeria met his eyes, showing a dimple at the right corner of his mouth.
“Yes, I am. And you are from Tintagel?”
“Felipe is the name.” He gave a short bow. “My mama, the empress, has been talking about you a lot; I felt that I had to see you in person when I arrived at Riviera.”
“Yes, I suppose I am hardly easy to miss.” Valeria smiled. “You can still see my skirts even if I hid behind a pillar.”
“I can understand as it’s the same for me.” Felipe patted his bulging belly. “A couple days ago I just resolved not to eat more than three pieces of cake a day. But this magnificent feast—” he gestured at the buffet table— “makes me feel that the resolution can be put off till another day.”
Valeria nodded fervently. “Do try as much as you can. I’d be honored to hear your opinions, as I hold Tintagel desserts in the highest regard.”
“I am afraid that I may have only overflowing commendation to give, Princess.” Felipe reached for a strawberry shortcake and admired it. “Mama rarely has a high opinion of anyone, so if she has been singing your praises constantly, I believe your expertise is unchallenged.”
Valeria blushed. “You are too kind, sir. All I have is a perennial passion for food.”
Felipe tasted the shortcake, a layered cheesecake, and several of the cream puffs. He praised each and every one, and his only complaint that his stomach was unable to hold every dessert in sight.
“Ah, that was scrumptious.” Felipe finished off with a cup of elderflower wine and then extended his hand. “Would you care for a dance with me?”
“Of course.” Valeria slipped her hand under his arm. “Though I have to warn you that I specialize in stepping on toes.”
Felipe laughed—a nice, jolly laugh. He led her on the dance floor, and soon they were happily twirling to the music. Thanks to the morning runs, Valeria managed to survive the entire dance without slowing down, when just several months ago, she had to rest after climbing a flight of stairs. However, she had an uneasy feeling that someone was glaring at her back, but she was too busy dancing to notice who it was.
“That was lovely!” Empress Salome approached them, once the song concluded.
Valeria curtsied. “Your Majesty.”
“You make an adorable pair.” Queen Jacinda also appeared, beaming. Clearly, she was pleased that Valeria got along so well with Felipe.
“My dear, I do hope that you are coming to Tintagel once you are finished with your training.”
“Do not make us wait impatiently,” Felipe added. He blushed.
“I shall be honored. In fact, I—” Valeria felt someone touch her arm. “Ralph? Is there something wrong?”
He dealt her a stony glare. However, Valeria was momentarily blinded from his displeasure; Ralph looked incredibly handsome tonight. He was dressed in a royal blue doublet lined with golden buttons, a silk scarf tied around his neck, and he smelled of cedar and lemon leaves.
“Yes.”
Had something happened to the desserts again? Perhaps a page slipped on some ice, or that annoying monkey the Makani ambassador was carrying had raided the table.
Valeria gathered her skirts and hurried off, only to be detained by Ralph again.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Did not you say something was wrong with the desserts?”
A bewildered look crossed his face. “I didn’t mention any dessert.”
“Then what is it?” Valeria asked, genuinely confused.
His hand tightened on her plump arm. “Are you planning to go to Tintagel?”
“Of course. The empress invited me—”
“Don’t go.”
“Huh?” Valeria could see Empress Salome and Prince Felipe watching them with a bemused expression. “You know how I love to eat, so I fail to see why I should decline such a tempting invitation.”
“Don’t go,” he repeated.
Valeria didn’t know what to say; she couldn’t even shrug and smile, which was what she used to do when dealing with any awkwardness. There was something wrong with him.
They were standing right on the edge of the dance floor, but as people began to notice the crown prince and the Amarantan princess together, they ceased to dance and stared. Even the musicians lowered their violins and flutes. The ballroom became absolutely quiet.
Ralph was still holding her arm by one hand. With his other hand, he raised her chin, making her look at him directly in the eye.
“Stay here with me, Valeria.” He cleared his throat. “Marry me.”
There was a collective gasp from the others, Valeria being the loudest, her mother following a close second. Effie, who was descending a staircase, grabbed the railings for support.
“Is he mad? Proposing to that...that lump?”
“Don’t worry—from the look on her face, she might just refuse him.”
“Is she mad? No one refuses the prince!”
“So you’d rather that she accept him?”
“Nooooooo!”
Valeria was aware of the buzz growing louder, but she forced herself to focus on Ralph alone.
“Well…” she said slowly. “It does seem rather incredible. No prince wants to marry a fat princess.”
“I told you your figure has nothing to do with your marriageability. Not to me.”
Valeria stared. So he did mean it; he was not simply being nice when he said that her weight did not matter. Still—
“But you never even told me that you liked me—and now you are saying that you want to marry me?”
Ralph sighed.
“I admit I was not considering marriage earlier,” he said quietly. “All I knew was that I did not want you to leave. If marriage can keep you with me, then I ask you, Valeria of Amaranta, to be my wife.”
Ralph released her arm. Everyone was staring and waiting for Valeria’s reply. “I’m sorry that I was too abrupt, but can you give me an answer before you go to Tintagel?”
Valeria looked up at him; this time, she willed herself not to be lost in his good looks, and instead to see into his eyes and the sincerity they held. Incredible as it may seem, she allowed herself to believe in him.
“I accept,” she said, smiling at him.
Ralph’s eyes widened.
“You…did you just say…”
“I said I accept your proposal,” Valeria said, laying a chubby hand on his arm. “But I should warn you that I’m not giving up my position in the kitchen.”
He swept her in his arms and lifted her in the air.
“No problem.”
Someone began to clap. From the corner of her eye, Valeria saw that it was Nadine. Prince James joined in, and so did Winifred, Ferdinand, and soon everyone in the ballroom was applauding.
When Ralph set her on the ground, little Elaine rushed up and threw her arms around Valeria’s waist.
“We’re sisters!” she cried excitedly.
Effie was sniffing into a handkerchief. “I cannot believe it! Her Highness actually is getting a husband!”
Winifred was assuring Queen Jacinda that no, they had not bribed anyone for a love potion. Prince Ralph was already good friends with Valeria. It was possible that he just wasn’t good at displaying his feelings.
Ralph held out his hand to Valeria.
“Shall we dance?”
Valeria laughed. “I was just going to ask.”
Ralph smiled. Taking her hand, he led her to the dance floor. Their dance caused a sensation—the tall, stately crown prince waltzing with the chubby, round-faced Amarantan princess. But even the least observant could see that Ralph’s face glowed, and that he clasped Valeria in his arms in an intimate manner that differed from the reserved conduct he showed towards his previous p
artners.
King Ronald and Queen Eleanor were already whispering on what they should offer Amaranta as a bride price. Once they got over the initial shock, they decided that since Ralph has finally declared his intention to marry, they should stand by his choice. Frankly speaking, apart from Valeria’s figure, there was nothing about the princess with which they could find fault.
Epilogue
Three months later. Tintagel castle.
“Hurry!” Valeria called, waving to a tall young man dressed in velvet robes of golden and red. She herself was clad in a gown of matching colors. The skirt was so huge that it could probably cover an entire round table.
Ralph caught up with her in a few long strides, though with a frown on his face.
“If you devote the same amount of energy to your morning runs, you would be able to run an extra lap.”
“Perhaps you can bring a basket of goodies next time,” Valeria said coaxingly. “However nice and tranquil the lake is in the morning, you know that it cannot be half as tempting as good food for a prize.”
“No.” Ralph held out his elbow. “You will be whining to eat first because you need energy to run. And then when you finish eating, you will declare that one cannot run with a full stomach.”
“How well you know me!” Valeria slipped her arm through his, and smiled up at him. “I suppose you are quite right. But you can hardly blame me for being impatient. You know I’ve been yearning to see the Tintagel castle.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I hope it’s only Tintagel food that you have been yearning to see.”
Valeria pretended to look thoughtful. “Oh yes, now you remind me. It has been months since I corresponded with Felipe. How I long to see him! His letters have been most delightful.”
Ralph halted. “You have been corresponding?”
“Well, sometimes when I run out of ideas, I find that I could use some extra help.” Then, upon seeing him frown, Valeria patted his arm. “Relax. I’m only teasing you. It takes far too long for the letters to arrive. And even if I choose to seek assistance, it would concern the cooks from Tintagel, Amaranta, Makani, and so on. Felipe has excellent taste, but he cannot tell how long for the meat to brown or when a pudding is done.”
Sometimes she couldn’t understand his jealousy; it should be her worrying. Though they had been engaged for a month, it did not deter some noble young ladies, both at court and the Academy. Valeria had caught him tossing a love letter in the waste paper basket or deliberately going another way when seeing a girl approach. Right now, walking at his side, she spotted a few Tintagel maids peeking behind marble pillars.
“Welcome!” Empress Salome appeared, looking like a huge jolly snowball in her magnificent white gown. “Valeria, it pleases me to no end that you have honored my invitation. And Ralph, I am glad you have spared the time to come as well. Please, sit down and refresh yourselves.”
Valeria needed no further encouragement. Her eyes were already sparkling at the sight of the feast laid out, though she was careful not to pick up her fork until the empress did. Prince Felipe, looking as plump and good-natured as she remembered, grinned at her.
They were invited to have tea in the Tintagel gardens. Tulips and bluebells and hyacinths bloomed in neatly kept rows, and one could hear the sound of the fountain water running.
“So I’ve heard of your betrothal,” the empress said, passing a cup of coffee to Valeria. “When is the wedding?”
“Oh, it won’t be too soon,” Valeria admitted. “After all the exhausting work that went into Ralph’s coming-of-age celebration, the palace staff needed a rest.”
“But it will be held within a year,” Ralph said firmly. He would have preferred a quiet wedding, small and select, but being the crown prince came with responsibility as well as privilege.
They had an extremely pleasant afternoon tea, in which Valeria consumed a generous helping of croissants, crepes, fruit flans, chocolate mousse, macaroons, and of course, cream puffs.
Ralph, on the other hand, did not eat much. He liked watching Valeria eat with a blissful look on her face and praising the desserts heartily, yet at the same time, he did not want her to enjoy Tintagel food too much.
Valeria met his eye and smiled. “Have a macaroon, dear?”
Ralph reddened. He liked the food, but he wished that it was just the two of them dining together. The empress and her smiling son were taking up too much conversation.
A few days later, when Valeria had toured the Tintagel kitchens to her heart’s content, they set sail for Amaranta. Although Queen Jacinda did come for a visit during Ralph’s birthday celebration, and Winifred and Effie would be staying with her in Riviera, Valeria did miss her home country. She missed the balcony outside her bedroom, where she used to enjoy countless tea times. But especially, she missed her parents, and she knew she wouldn’t be seeing them until her wedding.
Queen Jacinda was almost in tears when she saw her daughter stroll in hand-in-hand with the crown prince of Riviera. Never in her mind did she imagine that one day her chubby, food-loving daughter would end up with the most sought-after prince of all kingdoms. To think that she didn’t even consider Ralph when searching for potential suitors.
King Mossimo was grinning from ear to ear. Once Valeria reached out to give him a big hug, he whispered, “Well done, my dear. I am proud of you.”
Valeria tilted her head, slightly confused. “I thought you did not care if I married.”
“I did not mean him.” King Mossimo jerked a thumb at Ralph’s direction. “What I meant was that you actually found something worthwhile to do: putting your gastronomic skills to use at Riviera. It is not easy to actually do what you love. It is true that I did not think marriage necessary, but I did think it a pity if all you could do was sit and eat all day long.”
“I see,” Valeria said, smiling. She enjoyed being a food-taster in the Riviera palace kitchens and looked forward to more challenges in the future. “But I do sit all day eating, except in the morning. Ralph makes me run ten laps around the lake every day. He insists that I must exercise and get some fresh air.”
The king laughed. “Then you have chosen well.”
Princes Don't Bake
If one were to ask for a description of Prince Ralph of Riviera, the universal answer would be “perfection.” Graced with extraordinary good looks from his mother, along with a noble and refined demeanor from his father, the Rivieran crown prince had long been the most sought after young man in the world. There was no courtier who met him that failed to praise him, no lady whose heart did not quicken upon meeting him, and no Rivieran who did not speak of him with pride and respect.
That said, even this model prince of Riviera experienced the occasional difficulty. The first time he truly experienced anxiety was when Princess Valeria of Amaranta told him she would be returning home. He solved that issue with an offer of marriage, which she accepted. The second time he encountered a real problem was when Winifred and Effie, Princess Valeria’s personal handmaids, informed him that Valeria’s seventeenth birthday was coming in two weeks. He had yet to figure out what he should bestow her with.
A pearl necklace? A silver filigree bracelet? Or maybe a new dress of silk and lace? He had seen his father present such gifts to his mother, and she had seemed pleased, but he doubted that Valeria would show the same appreciation. She didn’t care for fine gowns or jewelry. She had once complained that she would rather wear a plain, homespun gown every day because she was always getting her clothes stained from sauce and cream.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Effie said, impatience in her voice. “Just get her the most de—lee—cious cake you can find! You can have one imported straight from Tintagel. Her Highness herself said that Tintagel desserts are of the highest quality of all kingdoms.”
Ralph did not reply. Effie’s suggestion was practical, but truth be told, he would rather not order Valeria a gift from Tintagel. He still hadn’t forgotten the scene of Valeria happily dancing with the Tintag
el prince, Felipe, at his birthday ball. Nor had he forgotten how her face lit up when she toured Tintagel’s palace kitchens. No, he would much prefer not to have anything to do with that kingdom.
Winifred, seeing the look on his face, guessed what was on his mind. Having been around Valeria and Ralph long enough, she had noticed that whenever Valeria mentioned the word Tintagel, Ralph’s expression darkened.
But honestly speaking, Effie’s suggestion was the best anyone could imagine. Other kingdoms—such as Amaranta—were far too distant for desserts to stay fresh enough when they were imported. They could ask Pat to prepare something for Valeria, but the baker was still dependent on Valeria’s food-tasting skills. Plus, how would they keep it a secret if Pat were to make Valeria’s birthday present? The princess worked in the kitchens almost every day.
Importing a cake from Tintagel seemed the only solution. Unless…
“Your Highness, how about you try your hand and bake something for Princess Valeria?” Winifred said.
Effie’s jaw dropped. Prince Ralph stared.
“Him…bake?” Effie spluttered. “Winifred, you can’t be serious! No offense, Your Highness, but our princess is so hard to please, even with the best cooks in Riviera! I know you excel at many things, but baking…I don’t think it’s a good idea! What if he blows up the kitchen?”
Winifred shook her head. “I’m not asking Prince Ralph to act as Pat’s substitute. I just think that Princess Valeria would be less critical if it were His Highness baking. If she just wanted an outstanding dessert, she can always order Pat to bake one or have it imported from Tintagel. Those are easy to come by. But it isn’t every day you can get a homemade dessert from the prince of Riviera.”
Ralph listened with great interest. He had balked at the idea of baking—the closest experience he had was painting smiley faces on cookies with Elaine—but Winifred’s explanation appealed to him.
“I’ll go down and ask Pat teach me,” he said, rising from his chair.
