Sonija Porter’s hands shook slightly as she smoothed the top of her cake. Mrs. Beason wanted this one completely perfect and had been hovering over Sonija’s shoulder all morning to make sure it was going well. Thankfully, the shop floor needed attending, too, so she had to be out of the kitchen most of the time, and Sonija was able to finish her work in peace. She had no idea why this particular cake was of such importance. The customer name attached to it was only “Kingston”, and they had made plenty of things for the city before. Evina held the wealthier clients, and the pickier ones, anyway. Sometimes Mrs. Beason just made a fuss for the sake of fussing.
Sonija had worked for Mrs. Beason for a little more than a year now. While she like the baking and the decorating well enough, Mrs. Beason hardly offered good company, and Sonija found herself frequently wishing for co-workers that she could talk to. Her hours at the shop left her too tired in the evenings for tavern nights and evening dates. Not that her pay would have supported it. Housing in Evina did not come cheaply, even on the working outskirts of town. But the shop windows at Mrs. Beason’s had a view of the cliffside and the sea, and the weather stayed sunny and warm for most of the year, and this was worth the money and the job. Sometimes, working the shop floor, she even got company from the nicer customers from out of town.
Sonija picked up the tray of sugar rose petals, made the day before and dried overnight, and set to arranging them in the smooth, wet top of the cake. Then she took her pick back up and carved the signature vine decoration into the top and sides. She could probably have done this without looking, but Mrs. Beason was concerned about this client, so Sonija took more time than she usually would have before going up to the front to call her employer.
“Ready for inspection! I’ll take the floor.”
Mrs. Beason came scuttling into the kitchen, mumbling “good, good, get on out there, he’ll be here soon.” Sonija slipped out with a “Yes Ma’am” and went straight to the front window. She made a show of arranging the display there, but let her eyes unfocus as she stared at the sea. Afternoon sunlight was perfect on the water. The sun lay behind the shop then, so it wasn’t glaringly bright like it was in the morning, nor full of long shadows from the evening angle. The streets looked warmly inviting, and summer was temptingly around the corner as spring flourished in the trees and window flower beds.
The chime of the door opening made Sonija jump. She quickly brushed her powder-covered hands against her apron before turning to greet the lost-looking man in the doorway.
“Mrs. Beason?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I’m not who was supposed to pick up the Kingston order, but I was in the area…”
“I’m her assistant. The order’s being checked right now,” Sonija said. “She’ll be out in a minute. Anything I can help you with?”
“I’ll just look around for a moment, thank you,” the man replied. “I didn’t catch your name?”
“Sonija Porter, sir.” Sonija inclined her head, and saw the man awkwardly retracting an extended hand when she looked back up.
“Pleasure to meet you. Do you do some of the baking as well?”
“Yes, sir,” Sonija answered. The man grinned uncertainly. Sonija fought to keep a straight face as he searched for more to say. He kept looking into her face and then quickly away again. Sonija had dealt with shy men before, usually with a sharp tongue, but this one seemed sweet, with a low voice and handsome face, and she took pity on him.
“Where in Kingston do you work?”
The question took him by more surprise than Sonija had expected, but seemed to give him confidence somehow. His smile widened and he stood up a little straighter.
“Well, the palace, I suppose,” he said. Sonija could see that there was a question on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t ask it. She raised an eyebrow. “Are you… familiar with Kingston?” he fumbled on.
“I keep up with the politics as I can, but haven’t ever been to the city,” Sonija replied.
“Oh, politics? Not too many people in Evina will admit that interest.”
“Sir, I work in a bakery. I’m not nobility,” Sonija retorted. The man smiled brightly at this.
“Well, what are your thoughts, then? Most pressing issues?”
“You sure you want me to get into this?” Sonija teased. The man pulled around one of the waiting chairs and settled himself down, beaming up at Sonija the whole time. “They’re your ears, I suppose,” she laughed. “Well, alright then, for starts, I’m not pleased with the way Advisor Merkal has been promoting his assistant. The man is trying too hard, and the way he’s running the country has too little respect for the working populace.”
“I think it’s the king who is running the country more than Advisor Merkal,” the customer grinned.
“Has anyone told King Tordault that? He could use the knowledge,” Sonija retorted. The man bit down on his lower lip and winced a bit in his silent laughter, but inclined his head for Sonija to go on. “Ideals are lovely in perfect worlds, but what we need now is trade with Northern Libanira. Too few merchants are coming into the docks here and at Sudapor these days, and it’s causing the money here to stall. If we keep pushing our neighbors to fighting, we’ll have no economy left.”
“Do you think there’s anything the king could do about that?”
“May I be blunt?” Sonija asked, looking at his face carefully. He nodded his encouragement and held a hand out palm up to her. “King Tordault may be perfectly fine in temperament and ideology, but he’s an arse when it comes to leading his advisors. Merkal needs firmer guidance, and Randolph has to take charge because Hotspur never will. We’ve got Pickett Randolph’s siblings out here, you know, and Brick and Kite aren’t bad sorts at all. They keep her informed of the status out here. I see them taking tea with her every other week. She’s got her ears to the people. She’s the one who needs the King’s focus. If he can make her voice the dominant one by putting her on a pedestal, Merkal would be drowned out, and there wouldn’t be a need to corral him forcibly.”
The man stared up at Sonija, a little slack-jawed. He mouthed for a moment as his eyes focused uncomfortably on her face. He seemed to still be smiling, but Sonija bit down on her tongue thinking she might have gone too far.
“You—“ he started, but Mrs. Beason bustled into the room and broke off whatever he had been about to say. He stood in greeting.
“It looks lovely, thank you, Sonija. The vines are very even on this one. Oh, I do hope we make a good impress— Stars!” Mrs. Beason ended in a sort of squeak, and dropped into a deep curtsy to the customer. She started to stammer out some sort of greeting, but the man hurried to his feet, and spoke over her.
“Please, there is no need for formality. I have been most graciously attended to by Ms. Porter here. I would have said I would be taking the order myself had I known in advance that I would be doing so. I am glad for the opportunity to visit your shop.”
“My most gracious thanks, Your Highness,” Mrs. Beason stuttered in a very high voice. Sonija froze. “I’ll collect your order. It’s all ready to go!” Mrs. Beason hustled back into the kitchen. Sonija could only stare wide-eyed as the King turned to face her. She bit down hard on her tongue to keep herself from swearing again.
“I mean in all honesty that it has been a pleasure, Ms. Porter. I am not often called an arse except by very close friends, and it is something that should happen much more often.”
“S-sir,” Sonija managed.
“You should visit Kingston at some point. I think you might like the city. People there are blunt about their opinions, not like Evina. Perhaps mid-summer? I’ll see who is scheduled to cater the festival.”
Mrs. Beason came back out in a flurry, and handed over the pretty wrapped box with an awkward sort of curtsy. The king took it, inclined his head at each of them in thanks, then left again.
“To think. Royalty, here in my shop,” Mrs. Beason breathed. “This is it, Sonija dear. This is the day our lives turn around.”
And for once, gazing out the window as King Tordault strolled across the street, Sonija thought she might be right at that.