The Rebel Queen

Chapter 6:

"Oh my gosh! I absolutely love the new hair! Where did you get it done?!" Kriss commented once we were away from prying ears.

"Lucy did it. Didn't she do amazing?" I laughed.

I saw Lucy blushing quietly from the corner of the room she was cleaning. She hid behind her layers of blonde hair and squeaked quietly.

"Lucy! You did amazing, darling!" Kriss complimented.

Lucy looked like she wanted to be anywhere else so intervened. "And it was exactly what I needed. A change of pace. Something that didn't complete lately hold me down....here. In the palace. Without the makeup and the signature hair, who am I? You know?"

Kriss laughed quietly. "I can't say I do, but I get it. You want a chance to not only reconcile with your old self, but discover your new self. Sounds like every cheesy novella I've read."

I smiled thankfully and nodded. Kriss was in an especially good mood today. She was chattering up a storm in her little sing song voice that sounded like ringing bells. Every move of her hand brought attention to her manicured nails. Every swish of her head showed off her groomed hair. Every word she spoke enhanced her glossy lips. It was hard to believe that she understood My transformation, when her every movement screamed 'im royalty!!!!'

Yet she was still wild, energetic, and ultimately rebel Kriss at the same time. She is exactly who I once thought I should be and is now everything I'm not. But now she is one of my closest friend.

"I'm off, malady," Lucy piped up from the corner. "Mary will be here shortly."

"They alternate?" I wondered.

"Occasionally. They stay together in the mornings and at night. Also for most of the daytime during the week. But I like to give them they're own breaks. It's a good system." 

I nodded and purses my lips. An awkward silence filled the room and my eyes darted around the room in seek of a potential topic of conversation.

"Baking!" Kriss suddenly exclaimed. I looked at her as if she just grew a second head. One eyebrow poised against my forehead and my eyes filled with concern. Kriss hit my shoulder playfully. "Don't look at me like I'm crazy. Baking?! I've heard you're an amazing baker. I've always wanted to bake cupcakes until I run out of flavors!"

I just gaped at her in shock.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me up out of my chair. "Come on Ames," she coaxed. "Chocolates goodness and the food cake of the devil. Lemon cake and pumpkin cake. Creamy frosting and overly-sweet sprinkles. And hundreds of them."

I sent her a look. "What would we even do with hundreds of cupcakes?"

"What you always want to do. Help the world. We will give them out to eights in Angeles. Maybe even ship some out to the other bases for them to give them out around the country. It's Americas Cupcake Foundation. It's the perfect thing for you to do while you wait for your proper place on the throne."

I just continued to look at her like she's crazy.

~oOo~

Kriss frowned at the goop in front of her. "It's too runny," she pouted

I inspected her batter and stuck a finger in it and tasted it. "Needs more Flour," I advised. "A lot more flour."

I went back to mixing my own batted.

"I did 3 half cups like you said," Kriss whined.

"I said 3 and a half cups," I corrected her with a pointed look.

"Oh," she smiled tightly. "Oops."

I rolled me eyes at her and slid the flour across the counter and over to her. She sent me a thankful look and preceded to measure 2 more cups of flour. I turned to Mary who was helping us with the skills of a professional. Mary was mixing and baking cupcake batter at immense speed. It was impressive.

The loud ding signaled the end of the first batch of 24 cupcakes out of many. I opened the oven and the yummy scent of vanilla wafted through the air.

The vanilla symbolized my day. Flawless. There was nothing you could possibly hate about vanilla cupcakes. They were plain enough to not be overpowering, yet still flavorful. Flawless. Just like my day. What I mean is U have managed to maneuver my way through the palace without any run ins with Maxon. He would ask questions. Questions I could not answer. Like if I'm a rebel and whether or not I'm trying my to assassinate him in order to take over the monarchy. Either one seems plausible enough.

"Vanillas done," I announced and set them in a cooling rack.

"Than start frosting," Kriss ordered, pointing to the baking bag full of creamy white frosting.

"No!" I interjected. "One must let the cupcake cool first."

She rolled her eyes and out her eye back on her work. "Ugh!" She yelled a second later. "I lost count of my flour."

I laughed lightly and went back to mixing my batter.

~oOo~

"What so we have so far?" Mary wondered, peering over my shoulder for a peak at the cupcakes.

"Vanilla, Chocolate, Lemon, red velvet, and brownie. Still have pumpkin, debunks food  cake and banana bread," I answered.

"Yum," she said, reaching for a cupcake.

"No!" I yelled and smacked her hand sending the cupcake soaring towards Kriss. The frosting splattered against her hair and she slowly turned around.

She narrowed her eyes at me. I obviously looked like the culprit. With my hands covered in frosting and my hand raised from hitting Mary. If I was looking at me I would of thought I was guilty.

Swiftly Kriss through cake batter at me and the liquidity goodness splattered against my dress and face.

"Oh it's on," I mumbled, revenge shining in my eyes. I dramatically dipped my finger in the frosting and ran it across my cheeks, under my eyes. Like football players wear. A war sign. She barely cracked a smile at my dramatic antics and did the same with the batter.

I armed myself with two cupcakes and prepared for war. Cupcakes were flying while Mary cowered in a corner. The cupcake batter reminded me of Marianna and I's food escapade in the kitchen. I wildly flung a cupcake at Kriss and she ducked. The cupcake flew past her and smashed into the face of an unsuspecting man. Maxon.

I barely had time to worry about his presence before an alarm rang. A familiar alarm. The rebel alarm.

As the cupcake slid down his perfect face his features were replaced with worry. A look my own face used to hold before I joined the other side of the cause.

I risked a look at my phone and read a text from Marianna telling me about a surprise attack. I had to get away.

I grabbed the closest jar of flour and dropped it on the ground. The glass shattered into a million pieces leaving a puff of flour in the air. Like a smoke bomb.

I slipped out of the room, but not before turning off the oven.

Baking rules 101