"What?" I look at the woman with a confused expression. "Are you going to put the apron over the armor?"

She frowns and wrinkles her nose, "you know what you just said."

"Yeah, I said that you need an apron," I wink at her. "We are going for a mostly pink theme here. It's something that came from our old bakery, Happy Bakery."

...

"So," Flavia says, eyeing the [Princess] at her side, "we agree that the presence of Her Highness is a great added value to the bakery. It will... increase the trust of people and prove to most that we had nothing to do with the death of the [Captain]. Now, the numbers are still not looking great. Joey's proposal to—"

I zone out as Flavia makes the point of the meeting, fixating my eyes on [Princess] Laurealia, who’s still wearing her heavy armor but is not bothered by it in the least. I frown slightly as I see her pay rapt attention to Flavia's words, thinking of how she’s listened and nodded throughout the whole meeting.

She only frowned when I was the one talking. She has no trouble listening to the others—hell, she looks like she's actually pretty shy! A [Princess] that’s shy! Huh!

I mean, not that I know how a [Princess] is built, but I thought she’d be haughtier with just about anyone and very magniloquent about her Princess-y duties. Heh, am I being racist against the nobles... am I being a communist? Eew.

Anyway, the [Princess]— right. It's important to know how much of a problem she will be. But seeing how she's giving no trouble whatsoever to the girls, perhaps I'm just stupid thinking that.

Wait.

Girls?

I suddenly look around and find that Stan's missing.

I sigh, getting a few stares and gesturing for Flavia to continue. It wasn't my intention to disturb the flow of work, but I just realized that the main quest is getting closer every day.

What a life.

I plop my chin on my hands, glancing at Laurealia and wondering...

Perhaps there's a reason why she's still wearing her armor.

...

"Hey, Joey!" Flaminia suddenly says. "I have an idea on how to make Her Highness more comfortable around here. Do you mind if I go fetch a [Runner]?"

That was what Flaminia said an hour ago, and that’s also how I found myself looking at [Princess] Laurealia and Lucinda side-by-side.

"Flaminia," I say, taking the pink-haired [Chef] by her hand, leaving the other two women at a table in the kitchen. As soon as I'm out of earshot, I start shout-whispering, "what the hell are you doing?!"

"What? I thought having another Elf by her side would help acclimatize the [Princess] faster."

"Flam, are you trying to get me killed? If Irene—"

"If Irene sees you talking with a prettier girl, she's going to squish her rotten brain out of her dull ears? It's not my problem if she's so insecure."

I massage my forehead as I sigh, "Flam, please. I know you're still angry, but—"

"Angry? Who? Me? No, Joey, I'm just looking out for the interests of the bakery. We are all busy, and you and Lucinda have such great affinity that, you know, it just came naturally to me to think of her. She accepted immediately, too, from what I heard from the [Runner]."

"Nothing to do with Irene sucker-punching the back of your neck, huh?" I sigh.

"Not at all. It's already a dry branch I've cut off. Completely forgotten. It's fertilizer by now."

Oh, Christ. This is just what I needed.

"Whatever, go finish up your orders. I'll show you and the other employees what we'll have to do to save the bakery later. It's just a different type of choux pastry. You remember, right?"

Flaminia tches at me and walks off.

Joey Luciani, official referee of, and possibly course meal for, the next catfight.

"Hi," I say to Lucinda after walking back. "Sorry that Flam dragged you here."

"I-It's ok," Lucinda coughs under the frowning gaze of the [Princess]. "It's an honor to collaborate with Your Highness."

"Call me Laurealia, Lucinda. No need for formalities in the workplace. This is not a formal function."

"Can I do that too?" I smile.

"No."

"Well, I tried. So, today, we will work on a new type of pastry. It's a glorified cream puff. Flaminia already knows about them, even though they are not that popular—but they are a very fitting pastry to name after a [Princess]. More specifically, today, we are going to make Eclairs."

"What is that?" [Princess] Laurealia sighs non-committedly. "I'll admit, Hu—Luciani, that chocolate was interesting. What is an..."

"Eclair. It's a long, thin pastry filled with cream and typically topped with a chocolate glaze. It's a classic dessert, and it's quite popular in many places. I think it will be a hit, especially with a royal endorsement!" I explain, trying to engage the [Princess] in the conversation.

[Princess] Laurealia raises an eyebrow but seems intrigued, "I have never heard of such a pastry. How is it made?"

"Well," I begin, guiding her and Lucinda to the preparation table, "we start by making a choux dough, which is a mixture of water, butter, flour, and eggs. It puffs up in the oven, creating a hollow shell perfect for filling."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

They just stare back at me until I point at the ingredients I've already laid out on the table, "start mixing the ingredients. First, add the water and the butter, then slowly, the flour. After it's all mixed well, add the eggs one by one until the dough is smooth and glossy."

[Princess] Laurealia, still wearing her armor, looks a bit out of place in the kitchen, but she meticulously follows my instructions, her movements precise and careful. Lucinda, on the other hand, seems more at ease, her hands maneuvering the ingredients deftly.

I continue guiding them, "Once the dough is ready, we will pipe it onto a baking sheet in long, thin lines. Then, we’ll bake it until it's golden brown and puffy."

Lucinda nods, focused on the task, while [Princess] Laurealia gives me a curt nod, her expression still somewhat distant. However, I notice a slight glimmer of curiosity in her eyes, which makes me smile.

It's incredible just how finely the [Princess] is cracking the eggs while wearing armored gauntlets.

I couldn't do that, I think to myself.

"Alright, it was pretty easy, no? One thing to keep in mind is that there are a few tricks to ensure that the consistency of the dough is just right. For instance, the moisture content needs to be balanced – too wet, and the eclairs will be soggy; too dry, and they won’t puff up properly. Also, when piping the dough, make sure the lines are of even thickness for uniform baking."

"After baking," I continue, "we let them cool for a bit. Then, we’ll fill them with a creamy custard and top them off with a rich chocolate glaze. Trust me, it’s a heavenly combination."

I can see [Princess] Laurealia’s stoic expression waver at the mention of chocolate glaze. "This process seems quite involved, but I am intrigued to see the outcome."

"It is intriguing," I smile. "The only problem with choux pastry is that the filling goes bad very fast, and Amorium's climate is pretty hot. We'll have to power up a bunch of cooling Runes to keep them from melting. A lot of these pastries will be custard-based. The others, we'll fill with a hazelnut-chocolate spread."

"You know, " I add, "the Eclair has an interesting history, [Princess]. Its name, 'Eclair', means 'lightning' in a distant Human language. It's believed to have gotten this name because it shines when glazed."

An apt name for a pastry made by you.

I bite my mental tongue before I actually experience lightning on my skin.

"Plus, it's easy enough to make even for a complete beginner. I was thinking of naming our version of Eclairs 'Little Princesses.' Not just as a homage to your involvement but also to pay our respects to baking—I haven't been doing enough of that lately. Anyway, each Eclair is like a little princess – elegant, delicate, and unique."

"Delicate?" [Princess] Laurealia gives me a disgusted glance before she focuses on the mental image I painted for her. I see the [Princess] looking around for a moment, not just focusing on Lucinda, but on the rest of the staff, who sneak occasional glances at her and the managers who, with all kinds of excuses, are still in the kitchen. "You know a lot of Elves," her voice is distant when she speaks, but she almost immediately whips her attention back to the choux dough in front of her.

"So, what now?" She asks, ignoring what she just said moments ago.

"Pastry bag and then the oven! We'll make the glaze in the meantime!"

...

I let Laurealia and Lucinda make a bowl of hazelnut paste and chocolate as I take out the first batch from the oven. Most of them are a bit crooked, but they are more than functional for our demonstration.

"When you are done mixing, you can start filling these Eclairs," I instruct Laurealia and Lucinda, handing them a pastry bag filled with the hazelnut-chocolate mixture they just prepared. "Make sure to fill them evenly so every bite is even. We should execute those idiots who fill pastries only one-third of the way. It's better to have less volume in one place but to have the entire pastry filled evenly—well, [Princess], why don't we actually make that into a law, huh?"

Laurealia ignores me as she proceeds to fill up the pastry bag, sneakily taking a few licks from the big spatula she was using to check the consistency of the spread.

She really likes chocolate, this one.

Laurealia’s armored hand hesitates for a moment over the pastry bag, but she picks it up with surprising grace. I notice her eyes are focused, a spark of determination lighting them up.

As she works on the Eclairs, her movements are meticulous and careful, the gauntleted hands surprisingly adept at handling the delicate pastry. The other workers in the bakery glance at the unusual sight – a [Princess] in full armor, filling Eclairs in their kitchen. Whispers and murmurs fill the air, but there's a sense of general positivity, too.

She can be mean, but at least we won't go bankrupt anymore, I tell myself. I gotta give her that. Even if she acts out of pocket, she's still saving our asses.

It doesn't take long for them to fill up the batch and start glazing them—predictably, with me holding some advice back for a laugh, they massively overdo it, and it looks more like an oblong-shaped profiterole than an Eclair.

Heh, let the [Princess] have some fun.

"Are they supposed to have so much glaze?" Lucinda asks, confused.

"Nope, but this is just batch number one. It's an experiment."

"You could have said something," the redhead puffs.

"I could," I wink at her, "but what's more interesting is how much you care about some stupid baking right now."

Lucinda blushes a little, "I'll go get my hands clean."

She walks away while the [Princess], without asking, goes for the first bite, spilling some chocolate over her apron, "Mmm—wow. Rotten roots. This is..."

She chomps on the Eclair as I just observe.

"You," Laurealia says after she's done with the first pastry and grabs another, "you are good at this. Very good. My [Royal Chef] doesn't make pastries this good."

"I am a Baker, with capital B," I say, even though, now, the words sound empty to me. Magister Mulligan has repeated to me that I'm wasting my time on baking so many times that I'm starting to believe him.

"Hm," she nods thoughtfully. "I understand why you own the bakery."

"Wow, that's very nice of you to say," I laugh, "I wasn't expecting it."

"I didn't endorse your character, Human. I said you have a talent for this; that is all."

"Alright, alright, I'll take it."

But then, curiously, she asks a question, "you said you didn't have much time to bake? Why?"

"Well, I'm practicing magic every three hours, basically, as soon as some of my Mana fills up, and I have training and adventuring duties. My... teacher, yeah, doesn't want me to waste time on baking, though. It's... confusing. Very confusing."

"So?"

"Well, I don't know. I'm kind of going through some shit. I suspect the others at the bakery are not happy that I do other shit on the side either."

"Do you fulfill your job?" Laurealia asks with a straight voice.

"I think so? I mean, if I focused on—"

"Ifs are good at the dinner table, not to have trees bear fruit," she snaps, "truly typical of your kind... when you respect something, you don't need to question your motives nor the job you do. The strongest classes are born out of the most exotic combinations, Human. If you truly respected baking, you wouldn't even consider abandoning it for something else. As long as your work is up to par, you should never question yourself. At best, you can work harder. Anyway, I'm done. I need to go and make my living arrangements."

That said, the [Princess] doesn't even look back—well, she actually snaps back, snatches six or seven more Eclairs, and then marches out of the bakery.

"Huh," I sigh, noticing that Lucinda's just returned.

"Can I try one?" She asks.

"Sure," I smile tiredly. "The [Princess] is really something, isn't she?"

Lucinda gives me a threatening glance, and I just raise my hands once again, shaking my head.

They really love their [Princess].

Lucinda's fiery red hair shakes slightly as she savors the pastry, making appreciative sounds and scarfing it down in seconds.

"Joey, this is good," she actually laughs out of excitement. "And Little Princesses?! That's genius! You are going to sell them by the shovel!"

Seeing Lucinda so excited makes my heart flutter and powers me up again, lifting my mood. Without even noticing, I take a step forward and extend a hand over Lucinda's face, rubbing the chocolate off her nose.

"Be careful when you eat," I smile. "You're a dignified [Mage]; can't let people think otherwise."

She giggles, and I'm about to wipe my finger into my uniform when I hear someone clearing her throat behind me.

Frozen, I crank my neck to the left and see Irene standing right behind me with her arms crossed. I turn to her with an apologetic smile on my face.

"Hello, Joey. Having fun?"