Alameda and I spent most of the day running through the shadows. We were very careful not to be seen, lest we be chastised. She would have been chastised for cavorting with a servant, and I would have been chastised for brainwashing the princess of Braith na Brannock into cavorting with a servant. Neither scenario was pleasant, so we stuck to the shadows.

I showed her everything there was to see: the attics, the barns, the tapestries, and the kitchens. The kitchens were the most fun, because I really got to show off in there. I have become a little bit of a chef in my spare time. I created my own spiced pudding bread that Mollyanna swears is the best she’s ever had. I snuck Alameda into the pantry where I had some stashed.

“Rivers and streams!” she cried. “This is amazing! You have to give me your recipe.” That made me blush. There’s something about a pretty girl asking for a spiced pudding bread recipe that speaks to a man’s heart. If I hadn’t fallen in love before that, I certainly did then.

I showed her a few herbs and spices that are unique to our end of the island, but I did not tell her my secret ingredient. I’ve never told anybody my secret ingredient. Secrets are secrets for a reason.

We grabbed a few other minor treats and snuck out of the kitchens via the path that leads out to the stables. We had to duck low at the windows to avoid detection. As we were passing Miss Cook’s main kitchen, the princess grabbed my arm. “What is that delicious smell?” she asked in a near-whisper. I sniffed the air, but not in a weird way.

“Oh!” I said, perhaps too loudly. She put a royal hand on my mouth and hid a laugh behind her other hand. My heart raced a little. I put my lips to her ear. “Our cook makes these rosemary rolls that people have literally died to get their hands on.”

“Literally?”

“Yep, literally. Cook killed the last two people who stole them.”

“Oh, no,” said the princess. “That is terrible.”

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“You think she overreacted?” I asked.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…I want you to steal me one, but I don’t want you to die.”

Perhaps I should once again point out that I am a lowly servant and the only son of our island’s most infamous horse thief. To hear that the princess of Braith na Brannock did not want me to die was the greatest honor of my life. If you are reading this and have a brain, you know what happened next. I decided to steal the rolls.

The first thing I did was to find a good hiding spot for the princess. There is a rather beautiful stone fountain in the courtyard just outside the main kitchen. It is wide enough to easily hide someone of Alameda’s tiny stature. We snuck behind it, and I told her to stay there, no matter what. There would be no way for anybody to see her from the house, but she could witness my daring attempt. I wanted her to witness my daring attempt.

The next thing I did was crawl on top of the horse cart full of hay that was just outside the kitchen window. I could clearly see the rosemary rolls cooling on the counter just below the windowsill. All I had to do was extend my reach.

“Reginald!” shouted Miss Cook from within. “Check the yaca beans! You know how they get when they go too long. This is the king! They have to be perfect!” She was too close for comfort, but my back was flat against the wall. She must have walked away, because I heard her shout from somewhere else in the kitchen.

It was time to have a go. I surveyed my target, leaned forward and…

I fell. It was a rather triumphant fall, all things considered. It was full of charm and grace and elegance, like the cliff divers at Bonnaver Lake. I dare say that no fall has ever been as graceful. At least that’s what I’d like to believe.

When I fell, I landed in the horse hay. It was soft and did not hurt, but the weight of the cart shifted slightly and made a clanky noise. Cook appeared out of thin air in a huff and a puff. “Who’s there?” she bellowed. She was always bellowing.

“I am so sorry,” said the whippoorwill voice of the princess. “I was admiring the truly phenomenal stonework on this pathway, and I bumped into this cart. I am rather clumsy. I hope I didn’t startle you.”

“Well, blessed King Theo!” exclaimed the cook. “It’s the princess. Here I am in the presence of royalty! But where are my manor manners? Come in, my child! Let’s see if you are hurt.”

I do not know what happened in the kitchens, but Alameda appeared half an hour later with a bandaged wrist and two large rosemary rolls. We ran to the stables, climbed to the loft, and hid from the rest of the world.