The bakery had been in disarray when they'd gotten into the building. The kitchen staff had gotten it spick and span by the time Chammielle and Will had returned after seeing to her grandfather. The sign had been found on a burn pile and they'd cleaned it up though there was a small crack in it.

"Your highness, we did our best to fix it, but I'm afraid we may need to ask for a woodcarver to make a new one."

Her fingers trailed over the faded gold paint on the trim.

"My mother painted this..."

The movement in the room halted as they looked to her for orders. She didn't have any. She was sentimental but knew not what to do.

"We will have it filled with gold in the warp of the wood. Then framed and hung in commemoration. If there is no time we shall need a banner made to cover the empty space for tomorrow."

She turned to him, "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Sweet Day, Chammielle. I set this up so we'd be returning to Kuchen so you could see it."

She kissed his cheek, the overwhelmed feeling she'd had slowly subsiding. If it weren't for him she wouldn't have known what to do about all of this. He'd taken charge when she'd needed him most.

"Your highness, this bakery has everything I'd need temporarily, but ingredients are in short supply. Flour is nearly gone and there is no fresh butter in the larder. The only thing there seems to be no lack of are these rows and rows of jars of glazed strawberries..."

She smiled at the jar. Of course. He'd bought the lot from Mrs. Rose down the way when she was about to lose her house to the landlord due to her debts. It must have put him behind.

"Just as well. The Jewel Box is known for its jeweled cookies with jam, we can use these instead."

"Jeweled cookies? You'll have to walk me through the recipe."

She rolled up her sleeves and threw a wink at Will, who seemed shake his head as his cheeks became flushed. It appeared he liked her in any kitchen.

"Leave it to me."

...

She'd worked tirelessly through the evening. Staff went back and forth from the market to retrieve the ingredients, and even out to some local farms to buy the freshest butter. Will had even pitched in. They'd finally got a rest in her grandfather's flat upstairs in her mother's old room, but sleep did not last long. By the next morning, before the sun was up, Chammielle found herself downstairs working with Chef Malbeck once more.

He'd fluted and firmed the cookie dough so it was scalloped and looked like a little square box. The strawberries stood erect like large rubies inside, and caster sugar had been added so that the whole of it sparkled like diamonds. The taste test was perfect, and she brought one up to Will as he was still in bed.

"Will...are you awake?"

He rolled over and sat up, his hair in his face.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly six. The bakery doesn't open for an hour. I wanted you to taste this."

He didn't even look but opened his mouth, and she giggled as she pressed the shimmering biscuit past his lips.

"Mm...mmmm! Oh, that is splendid!"

"I thought you might like it. I think these ought to continue this way. Glazed fruits turn out so much better. Of course the dough needed to be formed slightly in the ovens before the filling was added-"

He pulled her on top of him and caught her mouth. The kiss tasted like the strawberry and she moaned at this new flavor mingled between their tongues.

"Oh..."

"That's almost better than the honey..."

She nipped at his lip.

"I didn't get all that much of it."

"Mm, true. I'm going to add strawberry glaze to things we need to have on hand for the bedroom..."

She squealed and he turned her below him to devour her.

"W-Will! We only have an hour until opening!"

"Good. Then I have an hour to show my wife just how much she means to me."

The hour passed quickly. And Chammielle was pretty sure she knew exactly how much the Prince treasured her. Intimately so.

By the time they made it downstairs, actually dressed in more formal attire befitting the crown, the line down the block was overflowing with children and adults alike. It seemed while the children were receiving free biscuits, their parents were buying their own in support of her grandfather.

"There they are!"

"Long live Princess Chammielle! Long live Prince William!"

The shouts and cheers circled around and Chammielle blushed at all the positive attention from the same people she'd grown up with. She loved them all for it. Even the ones who hadn't paid her much attention before. But especially the little grannies that had given her a smack on the behind for the mischief she'd get into and send her off giggling. They seemed the least shy of the bunch. And the most nostalgic...

"You grew up so well...oh, it seems only yesterday you were in my garden picking chamomile flowers because you thought they were wild."

She blushed as Will laughed beside her at this newest story.

"Indeed, marm? I bet she was a handful."

"Not at all. She was just like her mother. Sweet from the day she was born. But never get her angry or she'd talk your ear off."

Her embarrassment felt crippling, but she reminded herself that Will already knew all of her. Stories of what she was like as a little girl were nothing to just how much he knew about her. She was just glad he didn't share that information like these little grandmothers.

"I am sure. I've tickled her with offenses from the day I met her, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love how she tells me off."

The blue haired woman laughed and wished them fifteen children. She thought she'd faint.

The crowds did not dwindle until luncheon, and the kitchen staff continued working in the back to keep making more of the jeweled sweets. They decided to close for an hour once the last available biscuit was gone, promising fresh ones after everyone had had their noonday meal. Chef Malbeck was ecstatic.

"Oh this is such fun! I've always wanted to have a quaint little place like this to retire to. I don't suppose your highness could spare me long enough to see Mr. Whittenbloom on his feet again?"

"I can and I intend to. He needs an assistant, and I can see no one better to help the man."

His hand smoothed circles on the silk bodice at her back as they sat together. Will looked about the place and seemed both enchanted and imaginative. She wanted to know what was on his mind.

"What are you thinking about?"

"This place could use a little updating...now that you own the building, I thought I'd gift you a nice budget to see it gleaming better than ever. But perhaps not make it too different. You grew up within these walls...I want them to retain everything they have been to you to mark where the future Queen of Garten began. It's so you, Chammielle."

He kissed her hair and she thought this must be the definition of bliss. Surely they could spend as many of these happy days together in the future. She wished her family could see them, too.

"Hmm, why aren't my family back from the capital yet? Do you know?"

Chef Malbeck cleared his throat.

"Seems they all received an invitation to stop by Wells and spend a week with the Duke of Wells. Nearly half of the Order of the Daffodil went with them, including Sir Jacob Rose as well as your sister's doctor."

The idea seemed delightful, but she couldn't help but think it odd. Such a sudden invitation? It seemed the Duke really had expedient intentions with Ianthe. But she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

"That will be a nice vacation for them. Shame they couldn't be here for the inaugural Sweet Day. There's always next year though, and this place will look even better."

She turned to him and kissed his dimpled cheek.

"How do you see it?"

"Gold framing...simple, not entirely ornate, around every picture and corner, even the corners of the counter. And glass covering things to protect them with plaques explaining why. Like there..."

He pointed and she and the chef followed his finger to the door frame going into the kitchen at the back. Wedges were carved at small and larger intervals near the bottom of the frame and taller.

"Those are the measured heights of a child, are they not? Is it yours?"

She chuckled.

"Mine and my mother's. C.E. for Chammielle Edelweiss, and P.B. ...Poppy Begonicia..."

He nodded and she felt a little choked. He was so sentimental.

"Then her name and yours will be written there as an epithet to your history. Poppy...such a beautiful name."

She rested her head back on his chest. So many memories were here. Such lovely things that made up her childhood. He was right. They were worth preserving. A living monument to what was. The Jewel Box would live on and continue for years to come. She'd make sure of it.

"Grandfather Sig will probably protest a little at first..."

"You'll win him over...or talk his ear off. One way or another."

She jabbed him in the side with her elbow and the chef chuckled.

"Your highnesses remind me of my son and his wife back in Franca. They always do this."

She looked up at her husband and he was beaming at him.

"They must have an excellent relationship. You'll have to invite them to Garten when things are all settled here in Kuchen."

"That I shall, your highness. Thank you."

She stood and dusted off her skirt. The work wasn't going to get done without them.

"Come on, Will, we've still got work to do."

Chef Malbeck cut her off.

"No no, Princess, we have it from here. Go. Enjoy the village together. It is your privilege to enjoy this day with your people."

She was about to protest, but Will tugged on her arm and she was dragged sideways towards the door.

"Listen to the man. He's a professional!"

He laughed as they left the place hand in hand and she was caught up all at once in the same way they had been in Torheit. The only difference was they couldn't hide who they were here. Nor were they trying. Augustus rounded the corner, back in his Knight's uniform with hibiscus pink cape over one shoulder.

"I was wondering if the two of you would ever get out of there. There's a lovely pub down the way with proper tufted couches if you'd like to go for a bite."

"Zum Leben... Father said it was for ruffians and old men so that's why he'd go. Delphi told me it wasn't proper for ladies to be seen there."

Will chuckled at her.

"You sound like you want to go."

She got a smile she couldn't shake and finally teetered her head from side to side making up her mind.

"Yes. Let's."

He held out his hand with a bow to her and she alighted her fingers, just curving them together over his. They were the Crown Prince and Princess after all. If they were going to do this, they might as well do it in style.

Zum Leben was open faced and had delicious smells wafting from the long open windows and doorway that were closed up with shutters after hours. Roses climbed the sides of the building, but schnitzel and wurst were the prominent scents luring the afternoon crowd in. Along with a good beer.

They strode through the door and the crowd hushed. Sir Rosenblum going in before them and marching up to a buxom waitress whose pretty mouth hung open. Chammielle recognized her from a party she'd been to months ago. Arm in arm with the newest officer of the law in town. Handsome fellow. Named Cotswold or something.

"A table for his highness and the Princess. Please."

The girl dropped the pitcher and ran to the kitchens. A man in thick leather suspenders and an apron he was untying hurried out. He had a curling mustache and she remembered he was the father of the little boy who'd kissed her so she'd stop crying.

"Your hi--Chammielle?"

His grin grew so wide and he slapped his knee.

"Oh how wonderful! Congratulations to you! I mean, your highness. This way, please! Best spot in the house!"

They were lead upstairs to a loft room overlooking the diners below. The railing had pelts lying over it and antlers were mounted along the high walls. Paintings of bodacious women with flower crowns were all around, and tufted leather eating couches and low tables greeted them.

"Unless you have something in mind you particularly want, I'll bring up a house special. We've got a nice hasenpfeffer, chicken schnitzel, and spätzle with ham and spinach."

They looked to each other and Will smiled.

"We'd like a little of everything if you please. And your best beer."

He grinned so big his mustache flapped with the motion.

"As soon as we can! Bless you!"

He hurried back down the stairs and Chammielle snickered into her hand.

"If only my stepmother could see me now."

He leaned in and whispered so Augustus could not hear him.

"If only she could have heard you this morning."

She blushed and swatted at him.

"You went overboard."

"You liked it so much you begged for more."

She cleared her throat as she caught her Knight's red face and sudden interest in one of the paintings.

"You forget we have company."

"Of course, where are my manners, dear."

He kissed her hand and turned to him.

"I'll stop teasing her. Please, Sir Rosenblum, join us."

He shook his head but came over and sat down. Not quite able to look at them.

"How is Gladys these days, Sir Rosenblum? I haven't seen her except one day at the wedding feast."

He brightened at that.

"She wants to know if she can come see you and have tea sometime. Belladonna gave her one of those cream horns you made and she's quite in love with your recipe. Said she'd try to make it out to Kuchen for Sweet Day actually. But I haven't seen her yet."

She smiled. Lady Rosenblum was a gem. And her playing was exquisite.

"I'd love to see her. Tell me, does she want to play professionally, do you know?"

He nodded and leaned back in his seat, finally comfortable.

"She wants to play concerts internationally. Even said it's her dream to be a teacher to the future princes and princesses if you'd have her. Not that you don't play just as well, but she'd like to remain close to your family."

It surprised her and she looked to William. He pulled a half smile.

"I'm afraid at least one of them will be like me and ruin her dreams entirely. Though hopefully our children will inherit all of Chammielle's excellent talents and none of my faults."

He laughed and she snickered at it as well. She hadn't thought of that.

"In any case, I'd love to talk with her about it. Not that we're expecting any so soon, but I suppose it's good to plan for the future."

Their conversation melted into ease and the food was brought up. Plates upon plates and iron three pronged forks like little tridents and sharp knives accompanied it all. And three great ceramic steins of beer that smelled like wheat and oats.

"To life!"

"Zum Leben!"

They toasted with the proprietor and Will even invited him to dine with them. To Chammielle's horror, he had even more embarrassing stories of her youth than the grannies. She suspected that had been her husband's aim all along.