The things we do for hate

Pastries, Problems and Poisonous Plans

I'm back! If there's anyone still reading this, I'm so sorry for the extremely long wait! I give you this extra long chapter as appeasement!

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"Hey! Watch the shirt! You don't wash these clothes!" I yelled in protest as the three of us were manhandled once again, making it twice for the day. I mean seriously, we were just peacefully making our way to the kitchen ANYWAY, the entire stupid corps didn't need to drag us kicking and screaming there. They could have just waited for us there and then decide to put an impossible task, but nooooo, they had to be inefficient. It's a wonder their charge isn't dead yet.

The guards ignored me, proceeding to throw us into the room roughly once we reached our destination. "That was totally unnecessary! We would have gotten here on our own!" Nikki joined my chorus, shaking a threatening fist at the ten men that stood at attention.

"That may be so, but this ensures you don't escape immediately. " From our grounded position, we turned to find the source of the voice; it was that short, stout, bald-headed advisor that was always on the Prince's heels even more so than Louis was. Ugh, his name eludes me. He wore rich expensive clothes, a combination of deep magenta and gold, almost royal colours. I narrowed my eyes and pulled on my nonexistent beard. He had a gold medal pinned to his person in such a way that you had to notice it. He's a count... and his name had something to do with money. I didn't even notice he kept on monologuing, in my attempt to place the face with a name. Count the cash? Count the gold?

Ah! "Count the coins!" I exclaimed, proud of myself. I swore I heard my sisters facepalming themselves. The Count in question soon changed colour from portly pink to raging red, and that rage was directed at me.

"It's Count de Quions! Kee-Ons!" I coughed into my hand to stop myself from laughing. "You obviously haven't heard a word that came out of my mouth, you wretched brat. So out of the goodness of my heart, I'll repeat. Tonight, as you should know, is the Prince's masquerade party. Due to some unforseen circumstances, the baker we had commissioned is unable to make his Highness' cake, so your illustrious patron has determined that the three of you make it. Though I can't imagine why. You have until 7 tonight to make this cake. If you fail or if anything goes wrong, you will all be put to death." At this thought, the count seemed to cheer up while Izzy tugged at my dusty shirt sleeve, nervously. "You won't be able to leave here until then and you won't be able to go to the party? Do I make myself clear?"

Having had enough of authority telling me what to do for the day (And it wasn't even noon yet!) I glared at the man who was pretty much the same height as me, and I was short, "And what if we refuse?"

"The same thing if you fail. The three of you die. Good riddance to bad rubbish, in my opinion."

I rolled my eyes, most people in the royal court disliked the fact that my sisters and I have been living in the palace for almost 6 months and it was no surprise that a select few, the Count for example, thought we were too insolent to be around their Prince for so long and deserved to be killed. Not like I wanted to be here. But noooo, let's blame the innocent runaways.

"You don't seem very happy with this development, Count the Coins, how about you pick this bone with the one who actually holds our lives, instead of talking down to children and let us do our work?" Seeing his face puff up and turn red again was completely worth the punch I took from one of the guards.

I keeled over on the ground, my sisters instantly rushing to my aid as the men left the kitchen, leaing the large room utterly quiet save for the sound of the dripping faucet.

"Kit, that was uncalled for," the blonde girl observed simply as she rubbed my back comfortingly. "..But totally worth it." The older one smirked. She sat on the counter island in the centre of the room, a large tome full of recipes of delicious cakes on every page. Once I managed to pick myself off the ground, I looked over Nikki's shoulder to see what simple mundane task that the Count had set before us.