Christmas Cookies Fit for a King [The Selection] Oneshot

Christmas Cookies Fit for a King

  America’s heart melted watching Eadlyn and Ahren try to lather frosting onto their Father’s Christmas present. They had been busy all afternoon in the palace’s large kitchen, baking crown shaped Christmas cookies for Maxon.

  Eadlyn grabbed a new cookie, beginning to spread frosting across its surface. When she reached for a new color of frosting, her elbow smashed into her cookie, smearing her frosting, causing a flood of tears.

  America worked her magic, trying to fix the frosting, or at least make it look somewhat like it had. Eventually it looked acceptable, and Eadlyn smiled, reaching for the red frosting.

  “See? Mommy fixed it,” America said, placing a kiss on Eadlyn’s clammy forehead.

  The chef walked in, his apron covered in fluffy white flour.

  “How are the Prince and Princess doing?” He asked, peering at the two toddlers kneading the cookie dough with their pudgy fingers.

  America suppressed a bubbly giggle.

  “They are doing very well. Have you been teaching them secretly?” She asked, joking.

  The chef laughed.

  “Only on the weekends my Queen.”

  Ahren let out an ear-piercing squeal, and America rushed over, searching for signs of smeared frosting.

  “I did it!” Ahren screamed, pointing to a lopsided cookie covered in every color frosting known to mankind. America smiled, looking at the red frosting smeared on his little nose.

  “You did! Mommy is very proud of you sweetie,” America said, pulling him in for a hug.

  Eadlyn finished too, hers consisting of only three colors, and actually somewhat resembled Maxon’s crown… if his crown had been designed by a three year old.

  America carefully picked the sugar cookies up off of the flour covered counter, putting them in a little decorated basket, painted red and green.

  “Would you two like to help me take these to your daddy’s office?”

  The twins squealed, running out of the room on their short little legs. America caught up, wanting to make sure they didn’t cover the walls in green frosting and flour.

  Maxon was standing outside of his office door, his tie slightly loosened. His hair looked messy, almost as if he had been running his fingers through it.

  “Present for daddy! Present time!” Ahren shouted, pointing to America.

  “Thank you children,” Maxon said, winking at America, holding his hands out to her.

  “Not me silly,” America chided, holding the basket out to him instead of her hands.

  Maxon took the basket gently from her hands, placing a feathery kiss on her cheek.

  “Thank you my dear.”

  America smiled, putting her hands on her hips.

  “They aren’t from me,” She said, pointing to Eadlyn and Ahren who were pressed up against a window.

  Maxon looked inside the warm basket, and a smile illuminated his handsome features.

  “Which one should I eat first?” He asked, and Eadlyn ran over.

  “No! They are your presents! Can’t eat! Keep?”

  America giggled.

  “It’s probably not really a good idea to eat those anyway,” America said winking. They had been handled by sticky finger, and were probably no longer very appetizing.

  Maxon grinned.

  He pulled the children into a hug, along with America.

  “Merry Christmas my dears,” He said as they all stared outside at the fluffy snow that was floating down from the blue sky. And at that moment, America was so happy, she didn’t even bother to correct Maxon’s reference to her as “my dear,” she just smiled, and snuggled deep into her husband’s arms, wrapping her own around the twins.

  “Merry Christmas,” She whispered, her heart filling with joy and love. At that moment there was no place in all of Illea that she would have rather been.