The Nine Princesses Novel

Chapter 43: Kitchen Princess

Heidel carried a steaming cup of tonic and set it before her sister, Ivy. Ivy struggled to breathe at the best of times, and was currently afflicted with a thick, choking cough. The tonic, hopefully, would open her passages and bring air to her starving lungs.

"It's very hot," Heidel said. "But try to drink it that way. It's more effective." She had shredded the root of elecampane, an herb from her garden, and soaked the pieces in boiling water before straining them out. To sweeten the bitter taste, she'd added honey and nutmeg.

It still would be terrible.

"Thank you," Ivy squeaked amidst the coughs that shuddered her chest. She sat on a stool by the kitchen worktable, her crutch propped within reach. Like Heidel, Ivy's hair was reddish, though of a different hue. Where Heidel was dark russet, Ivy was bright pumpkin-orange, gathered by a ribbon at the nape of her neck and flowing behind in a long tail.

"I'm sorry you're sick on your birthday." Heidel climbed onto a stool near her sister. Ivy cradled the drink and sipped carefully. "Sixteen years of-" (cough, cough) "-medicine." Ivy smiled. "I'm still waiting for one that tastes good."

Heidel laughed. "Mine are better than Joc's!" She kicked off her shoes, nestling her toes on a large, shaggy hound that slept beneath the table. Squire was her favorite footrest.

"Did Joc-" Ivy crumpled into coughs again and simply waved at her tonic.

"Joc taught it to me," Heidel said. "But the nutmeg was my idea."

Ivy's face drooped and Heidel cursed herself for mentioning their former cook. He'd been gone for almost a year. Not because he died... because he had run away. Around Ivy, one should never speak of anything sad. Or ugly. Or frightening. Her frail body housed an even frailer spirit.

"I'm starting the cake soon." Heidel spoke brightly, folding her arms on the table. Ivy sipped the tonic and sighed, gratefully drawing the air to her lungs.

"I'm excited!" Heidel said. "Never made a Princess-and-the-Pea cake before."

"You never had to," Ivy mumbled, another reference to Joc who'd always made the princesses' cakes. Heidel smothered a groan.

"Sometimes I imagine he was kidnapped by a barbarian horde," Ivy said. "But he defeated them and became their king. And now they have to cook for him."

Heidel smiled. She missed Joc no less than any of her sisters, but saw no point to such fantasies. Joc was gone. That was that.

The soothing smell of warm bread sifted through the kitchen. Heidel had halted her breakfast preparations when Ivy limped in, nearly blue with suffocation. At any moment her sisters would be descending to the dining hall. Being Kitchen Princess for nearly a year had taught Heidel something: her sisters ate a lot.

She stood and returned to the plate of cold pork she'd been slicing. Ivy drank dutifully, her fine features pinched as she tried to ignore the taste.

"You said what, fifty guests tonight?" Heidel asked, trying to determine how large to make the cake. Ivy shook her head. "Thirty at most. I don't want a crowd. Oh!" Her startled eyes jumped to Heidel's face. "Oh Heidel, I forgot to tell you. Prince Eravis is coming."

Heidel's knife stopped sawing through the hunk of pork. "Eravis?"

"I'm sorry."

"You invited him?"

"I wasn't going to but Coco helped me make the guest list. She had ten princes when we started but I narrowed it down to three. You know how she-"

"I know." Heidel tried to hide her bubbling rage. "He's definitely coming?"