Sleep didn’t come easy for Julienne. And when it did, it was a fickle, fleeting thing. His first nightmare was a particularly cruel one. He dreamt that he had slept through the entire day, missing the fated dinner. In his dream, he scrambled across the Crown of Ambrosia City in the golden red of sunset. By the time he arrived at Cafe Julienne, the sun had gone and he was Julienne no more.

The panic and despair of the nightmare clung to him when he woke up. He snapped up and threw off his covers. He couldn’t be late.

But he wasn’t late. Soft moonlight poured through the window, illuminating Akando as he slept. Still night. Not even a hint of sunrise. A soft, yellow light danced on the ceiling, beating back the shadows. The soft turning of a page interrupted the silence of the night.

“Put out that candle,” Yarrow groaned, half-asleep.

“Just a few more pages,” Sutton whispered.

Julienne laid back down, pulling the blanket tight around his shoulders. He closed his eyes and started his breathing exercises.

Three short breaths in. One long breath out. In. In. In. Out.

His mind started to wander to his menu. Had he made a mistake? In. In. In. Out. Maybe he should do lemon drop martinis again. Nori and Yarrow could handle those on their own. Julienne couldn’t mess anything up if he didn’t do anything. In. In. In. Out.

He slept through the day. He missed it. It was all over. His foot slunk out of the blanket and found the ground. His eyes opened. Still darkness. Still night. Sutton’s candle still illuminated the ceiling. Yarrow with a pillow over his head. Another dream. Julienne felt even more awake this time. He considered just waking up and walking around, but told himself he needed the sleep. In. In. In. Out.

He thought about Grand King Flambé’s annual trips to Uroko. Maybe he would appreciate Urokan food? In. In. In. Out. Nori could make it. She could get Archie to help her. After all, she had been the one that insisted she would only help if Archie could come along too. In. In. In. Out.

He jerked in his sleep so hard that he woke up. Still dark. True dark. Sutton had finally given in to the night. Julienne rolled over and felt his stomach acid churn and sting what he assumed was an ulcer. In. In. In. Out.

His thoughts resumed from before he had fallen asleep. He decided Urokan food was out of the question. The day wasn’t about appeasing Grand King Flambé, even if he was the main guest. In. In. In. Out.

The day was about the gift of Labruscan food. The generosity of an entire kingdom. A gift to thank the original gift. Ambrosia’s gift. A celebration of over a thousand years of history between the two closest kingdoms in the continent. In. In. In. Out.

Julienne rolled over, the routine movement enough to break the thin veil of sleep he had achieved. The faintest hint of a sunrise came through the window. Good enough.

He popped his back and stood up, getting on his tiptoes to see if Yarrow was awake in the top bunk. Julienne shook Yarrow’s foot, waking him just enough to get the message across.

“I’m going. At 11, get the others and come to Cafe Julienne. We’ll have lunch there before we start.”

“Unh.”

Julienne changed into his orange jacket, waiting until he was out in the quiet of the hallway before putting on his shoes. Laughter echoed down the hall. Two third-years stumbled past Julienne, their stifled laughter carrying the stench of alcohol.

Julienne walked through the alcoholic vapor and into the lounge. A few students sat around, half of them early risers and the other half night owls about to be scared off by the rising sun. Julienne wondered if any of them noticed how hard he was breathing. He remembered his exercises. In. In. In. Out.

He walked out of the lounge, around the winding paths to the upper building, through the great hall, and out into Ambrosia City. His body recognized the route and responded with a habitual stress. It had learned a simple equation long ago. Walking to Cafe Julienne equals stressed out. Stressed in. Stressed in. Stressed in. Stressed out.

“Hello, welcome to Cafe Julienne,” he rehearsed under his breath. “I’m Julienne. No, you know who I am. Hello, welcome to Cafe Julienne. Hello. Welcome to Cafe Julienne. It is my honor to welcome you to Cafe Julienne on my birthday. On this momentous occasion. On this special tradition between our kingdoms. I—”

Julienne’s stomach seized up, robbing him of his breath. He squeezed out a gargling, acidic burp and wondered if food would help or make things worse. He considered turning back and eating at the Academy, but decided that he could handle the thirty minute walk to Cafe Julienne on an empty stomach.

“Grand King Flambé. It is an honor to—no, because then I have to say Prince Waldorf, it is an honor. No. Hello and welcome to Cafe Julienne. I am honored to have you…It is my honor to…I am honored to…”

Golden rays of sunshine started to peak over the crest of the mesa, coloring over the dull blue shadows that filled the street. Julienne dodged out of the way of farmers as they pushed their carts through the streets before the crowd picked up. Their massive bundles of crops and the wide streets warned of the sleeping giant known as Ambrosia City. Soon, hundreds of thousands of people would walk these streets.

“For our first course, a mixed green salad served with Labruscan oranges, strawberries, and drizzled with the star of the dish, a nectarus vanilla vinaigrette…For our first course, I wanted to highlight nectarus vanilla by…”

He walked through a strip of restaurants, passing by several locked doors before coming to a little spot on the corner with outdoor seating and a green plaque—indicating it as a Green Jacket Restaurant—labeled Cafe Brew. Enticed by the smell of coffee and eager to distract himself from his upcoming day, Julienne decided he could go for breakfast.

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He sat outside, watching the early risers of Ambrosia City. A Green Jacket, a middle-aged man with a thick, dark mustache, took and delivered Julienne’s order—a croissant and a black coffee—and lingered while Julienne took a sip.

The bitter drink did Julienne’s stomach no favors. He ripped the croissant in half, hiding his disappointment for the sake of the Chef that hovered over him. Just from a look, Julienne could identify problems in the croissant’s proofing and the lamination. The inside was too dense—he would hardly call it a croissant. Still, he needed something to quell the fire in his stomach. He took an underwhelming bite.

“Sorry,” the Chef said.

“It’s alright,” Julienne responded immediately, thinking the man had the decency to apologize for selling such a travesty in a bakery. But as it turns out, the Chef had apologized for staring.

“It’s just that I think I’ve seen you before. Do you work at Cafe Julienne?”

Julienne had been recognized before, but usually people recognized all the way or not at all. He nodded.

“I took cooking lessons there last fall,” the Green Jacket said.

Get a refund.

Julienne forced a smile.

“What a magnificent place,” the man said with a sigh of remembrance. “You must be quite the Chef to work there. I hope my croissant is adequate.”

For as much as Julienne rehearsed his decorum in preparation for the royal family, he failed to manufacture a respectful response to the Chef. “Sure,” he said. His discomfort caused him to bite his nails—better that than the croissant.

“I plan on attending this fall’s course as well. So much to learn. What was your name?”

Julienne took a sip of coffee and his stomach seized up again. He flexed his stomach and let his breath out in a slow, controlled push to prevent a burp. “Julienne.”

The man’s smile faded in shock. He blinked several times before finally moving, raising his hands. “I can’t charge you for this,” he pleaded. “Take it as a gift.”

“No it’s…it’s fine.” Julienne pulled out three silver coins, overpaying by triple. “For your lessons.”

Ambrosia knows you need them.

The man discarded his reservations and snatched up the coins. “Thank you so much, Chef Julienne. I will let you enjoy your meal in peace.”

The man rushed off before Julienne could see his shaking arms. Just before the Green Jacket got to the door, Julienne stopped him for one last word

“Do you use bread flour?”

“What?” The man turned, flustered. “It’s bread, so yes.”

“Use cake flour. It’s softer. More flexible. It’ll help with the honeycombing.”

“Oh. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Julienne took another bite of the croissant before giving up on it. He drank the rest of the coffee despite knowing that it would give his stomach trouble for the rest of the morning. But he needed the energy and couldn’t sit still any longer.

He needed a new fix. A new stress release. He had heard of the tobacco from Kuutsu Nuna that had taken Labrusca by storm since he left so many years ago. He made a mental note to ask Akando to bring some back after the summer. He got up and started walking.

“It is on this day that we remember…I hope today’s meal…I hope today’s experience is worthy of the great history between our kingdoms. Of…The kingdoms of Labrusca and The Platter…The Platter and Labrusca?”

Julienne walked through the wrought iron gates of Labruscella, the golden-armored guard bowing to his waist as Julienne passed. Julienne responded with a nod and rushed up the steps to Cafe Julienne. His stress solidified—or rather, liquified—in his stomach as the upcoming events of the day became real.

As he walked into the empty kitchen, a terrible thought struck him—what if someone had used his ingredients? He jumped up onto the counter of his usual kitchen pod, swiveling around on his butt and landing on the other side. He bent down to open the fridge that lined the lower cabinet, praying that he would find what he expected inside.

Everything was where it needed to be. And there was something else—an unexpected small ceramic jar with a note propped against it.

What easier way to love than to gift? - Your Great Aunt Julienne

The jar opened with a pop, revealing one of the greatest treasures in the five kingdoms—a white truffle the size of an apple. Julienne gasped. His mind opened up to an infinite multitude of possibilities, his entire pre-planned menu being left by the wayside as he explored the new options available to him.

As he prep cooked for the day, he also sliced bread into thin slices and coated each side with cheese, placing them in a skillet with some butter. On one side of the stove, he made the infinitely complex consummé, while on the other, he made the infinitely simple grilled cheese.

He ate the first grilled cheese as he cooked, his stomach thanking him for giving it something to mitigate the acid that had run rampant all morning.

He made a crémé fraîche and another little square of grilled cheese, this time with a new cheese blend. He ate the grilled cheese and considered adjustments.

He made black pudding and also another bite of grilled cheese, this time with a bit more butter.

He made several cauliflower tarts and also another bite of grilled cheese, this time with sourdough bread.

He chopped up the day’s fruits and vegetables and also made another bite of grilled cheese, this time adding oregano.

Yarrow, Mindy, Archie, and Nori showed up right on time. Julienne put four more grilled cheeses on as his team settled in.

“Hey guys. Lunch is almost ready. And…”

Julienne popped open the jar and showed off the truffle. While everyone seemed impressed, only Yarrow seemed to truly understand the value of what Julienne held.

“Truffle? Cool. I’ve never seen one. Kinda dirty,” Archie said.

Nori examined it with a scholar’s disposition. Mindy offered a mild, “wow.”

Yarrow’s jaw hit the floor and his hands reached out for the truffle, but he hesitated, refusing to touch it.

“Go ahead,” Julienne said.

“No. I can’t. I don’t want to ruin it.”

Julienne pushed the truffle into Yarrow’s hands. Yarrow had struggled all year with his insecurities. First, it was being from Khala. Then it was about being poor. Then it was about the imprisonment of his thief of a father. But Julienne didn’t care about those things. He didn’t care about who they were outside of the kitchen.

That’s why he did care about Yarrow’s acidity. Any time Yarrow cooked with essence, things turned acidic, so he stopped cooking with essence entirely.

Yarrow was Julienne’s best friend. But nothing mattered outside of the kitchen.

If anyone was going to mess everything up, it was going to be Yarrow. He needed a dose of confidence.

“I need you to lead when I can’t, Yarrow. I have to play Chef and entertainer today. If I leave something over the fire to go put my tongue in the king’s ear, I expect things not to be burnt when I get back. When I can’t watch over someone, I need you to keep them on the timetable. When I’m out of the kitchen, you’re me today. I need you to know what needs to be done without me telling you. I need to rely on you.”

Yarrow looked Julienne in the eye, valuing the words more than the priceless truffle in his hands. “Yes, Chef.”

“Thank you.” Julienne nodded and then raised his voice for everyone. “Lunch before work! Grilled cheese. Made with manchego, cheddar, and my thanks.”

On the other side of Ambrosia City, the royal guard loaded Prince Waldorf into the largest carriage in the world.