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18.65% Oh My, I Messed Up the Story / Chapter 36: Doughnuts

Bab 36: Doughnuts

Crying hangovers were always the worst. Every time I ended up with a terrible headache for the rest of the day.

No matter how much my head hurt I wasn't able to fall back asleep so I was stuck alone with my thoughts in my sad blanket nest. The fire had been stoked but I still felt frozen to my very bones.

"Katie?" a voice I did not want to hear called softly. "I brought you some hot chocolate and pastries."

I wouldn't have responded if he hadn't mentioned hot chocolate. That might actually be helpful right now. Chocolate had a small amount of caffeine in it and caffeine was good for headaches.

I opened the curtains just enough to poke my head out and saw his sheepish expression and the tray in his hands. My ire immediately melted away when I saw what he had with him.

"Doughnuts! Where on earth did you get them?!"

Al wrinkled his nose in confusion. "You know what these are? Marcy just invented them today and hasn't named them yet."

"They have these where I'm from," I explained quickly. In my excitement I had forgotten myself yet again. "I guess the trend hasn't made it to the capital yet."

"Doughnuts, huh? I'll send a note to the kitchens after this to let her know what they're called."

I was so derailed by food I never thought I would see again that it took me a minute to register the fact that Al was talking about Marcy like they were friends. That made my mood even better.

To think that my whole outlook on life could be changed in an instant by something as simple as familiar food and the plot going the way it was supposed to. I thought I was all out of tears but a few happy ones managed to escape.

"Don't cry again!" Al begged.

I wiped them away and smiled at him. "These are happy tears, dummy. This was exactly what I needed."

He cocked his head. "You like these doughnuts so much?"

"I never thought I'd see them again," I murmured. "These are a precious memory from home."

When was the last time I had had a doughnut before this? I think it was during Teacher Appreciation Week at work when they had a different kind of food available in the lounge every day.

I could easily imagine the pink bakery boxes sitting on the long table in the middle of the dimly lit room. I chose a maple bar originally but since there were extras I swiped a glazed one later on.

"I can ask Marcy to make you more the next time you get homesick," he said earnestly, pulling open the curtain further to set the tray down on my bed.

"And I'll even ask her how to make them so you can still have them once we run away. If there are any other foods you want from back home we can figure those out too. Just please don't cry anymore."

Part of me was touched that he cared so much about me crying. The other part was not happy to hear he still wanted to run away even though he was getting closer to Marcy.

It was so confusing. If he liked Marcy why did he still want to leave? Did he feel guilty towards me?

"There actually is something else I would like from home," I admitted, pushing those thoughts aside. "It's called a hamburger."

Al eagerly sat on the edge of my bed and clasped my icy hands in his warm ones.

"I've never heard of that either but tell me about it and I'll have someone make it for you!"

I couldn't help but smile at his sincerity. He was being so nice, trying to cheer me up even though I had yelled at him. Fitting for a hero.

"It's made by squishing a ball of ground beef onto a hot pan and cooking it on both sides. The meat goes in between two halves of a large roll and is usually also stuffed with things like sliced tomatoes, lettuce, onions, and pickled cucumbers. If I had a hamburger I would just about die."

He frowned and crossed his arms in front of him. "Well, I'm not getting you one if it will kill you."

Okay, that was pretty cute. I covered my mouth so he wouldn't hear my snickering.

"No, Al, it's a figure of speech. It means I would be really happy."

"How are happiness and death correlated?" he asked with a shake of his head. "Sometimes you say the oddest things, Katie."

With a shrug I stuffed half of a powdered doughnut into my mouth. Absolutely heavenly. I finished off all four doughnuts and the hot chocolate before lying back on the bed sleepy and content.

Had I ever been this happy since landing in this novel? All because of a few doughnuts and the thoughtfulness of a friend.

"Thank you, Al. This means a lot to me. And…I'm sorry for yelling at you. I had a rough morning but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

He shook his head. "No, I deserved it. You have had to deal with a lot of stress since coming here because of me. I promise I'll find a way to make it up to you."

"Get me a hamburger and some pizza and I'll call us even," I yawned. What was it about good food that tires people out?

"What is pizza?"

"I'll tell you later," I mumbled sleepily.

"You're going to catch a cold," Al chided and gently lifted me off the blankets so he could cover me with them.

Tucking them around my chin, he leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to my forehead.

I was already half-asleep so I didn't hear him whisper "sweet dreams, darling" before he shut the curtains and headed off to the kitchen to ask someone about making me a hamburger once I woke up.


PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
Mcllorycat Mcllorycat

Al is a little dense but he's barely been outside the palace so cut him some slack ;)

Bab 37: Mental Tally

The doughnuts and hamburger, though blander than the ones back home, revitalized me so the following day I handled the bridal lessons like a champ. Even the nitpicking Madame Chalaise was impressed.

Since I was starting to get the basics down she had me run what I could only think of as drills from a very sissy boot camp—walking with a book on my head while wearing impossibly high heels, smiling, turning, waving, repeating.

Once I got into a rhythm it was a mindless task so I could focus on other things. I ran a mental tally of what I knew about the people in this place, both from the novel and my own observations.

I only saw the king at meal times. In the book he actually wasn't all that important a character. He was on Sigmund's side but in the end passed away before he could do much to help his heir due to an unexpected illness.

The queen was also on Sigmund's side but her power primarily manifested itself through her brother, the archduke. Her days were spent entertaining high ranking nobles and drinking tea.

Rosenia's schedule was virtually the same as the queen's as far as I could see. She was petty and demeaning but posed no real threat in the novel. When Sigmund was deposed she went back to Rowenhilde in shame, never to be heard of again. I wasn't terribly worried about her.

Franz was more of a wild card. We hadn't spoken since he escorted me to the dressmaker so I didn't know if he had taken my words to heart or not.

I had no idea what he was up to, only that he was trying to gather support within the court. For the time being it looked like he was stuck since his plans only got any traction once Marcy and Alpheus got involved in the novel.

His relationship with Mariela seemed fairly one-sided. I got the impression that he cared for her but didn't know how to show it so she felt no attachment to him.

Mariela, like the queen and crown princess, spent a lot of time drinking tea with other nobles but since she was only the second princess she was excluded from certain gatherings and frequently alone. Or with me, now that we were friendly.

Of everyone in this palace, ironically, I knew the most about the man I was trying to avoid since his plans were covered in detail in the book. He spent hours each day holed up in his office conferring with his cronies, including Duke Orla and the archduke. With all of that foreknowledge at my disposal Sigmund was low on my priority list of people to figure out.

Al was at the top. The novel glossed over his lonely childhood, mentioning that he had no playmates and was left alone any time he wasn't either participating in lessons or needed to show his face at a formal event. He began sneaking out of the palace around the age of ten to explore the outside world, which led to his meeting Marcy years later.

Honestly, I didn't have a clue what he did when he wasn't with me. His family gave him no responsibilities and he wasn't vying for the throne. As an adult he had no need for further tutoring.

How did he spend all of those empty hours before I got here? I needed to accurately gauge Al's life and personality if I was going to get this novel back on track but at times he was as unfathomable as the depths of the sea.

I hadn't met Sir Luken Marino yet and I wondered if I even would. He was a distant cousin of Marcy's and she had convinced him to help her and Al in their quest to bring down the crown prince after getting to know him through his frequent visits to the kitchen trying to woo one of the pastry assistants. It was easy enough to convince him since he had previously trained a bit with Franz and knew he would make a better king than Sigmund.

Of all the main players that only left Marcy. I knew how things were supposed to go with her but so far it seemed like she stuck to her role in the kitchen, hardly stepping outside it because her delicacies were in demand for the constant tea parties held by the queen.

I really needed to get back in there and talk to her more seriously but what would I say? I hadn't been here long enough to collect my bearings and come up with a real plan. I was making things up as I went along and who knew how long that would work.

"Madame Chalaise, may I request Lady Catherine's presence?" a soft feminine voice sounded from the doorway. "I would like her to accompany me for tea in my chambers."

Mariela primly folded her hands in front of her, a picture of elegance and poise. She had to mind her manners if she wanted the old dragon to cooperate and let me go. It worked and my tutor released with no complaint—I had to applaud Mariela's methods.

"Thank you for relieving me back there," I whispered once we had made it down the hall. "My eyes were about to glaze over."

She let out a dainty giggle. "Practicing walking is very repetitive; I cannot blame you. I have the perfect thing to perk you back up though!"

"You're the best," I sighed happily when I saw that we were having hot chocolate instead of tea.

"I have noticed that you never finish your tea. I do not mind it much myself but I can see how one would get sick of it after having too often. The secret is variety. I rotate through no less than twelve different types before having the same one again when I am in charge. Unfortunately, the queen typically chooses the same three varieties over and over and she is in charge of most tea times in the palace," Mariela lamented as she stirred her drink with a spoon. "It would be nice to be in charge of something. It would give me more to do."

I frowned. Had Franz not talked to her about her potential political contributions? I really thought I had gotten through to him too.

"Can't you try asking your husband if you can shoulder some of his work? That would keep you busy."

"It would but I doubt he would agree. Why bother asking if I know I will be turned down? It seems counterproductive."

"You never know unless you try," I hinted heavily.

If they only talked to each other! With proper communication and mutual reliance those two had a real chance at a good relationship.

Franz wanted to grant her wishes but he didn't know what they were because she never said anything! As an objective viewer it was frustrating.

"He has been spending a bit more time with me in the evenings," she said thoughtfully. "Can you believe that he has actually asked me questions about my day? Specific ones! The change has been hard to believe since he has largely ignored me for the past nine months."

My heart went out to her. What was with these princes' mindsets? One brought in a beautiful foreign wife that he doted upon from a distance but wouldn't spend actual time with and the other dragged a wannabe runaway to the palace and demanded her time constantly so he wouldn't be bored.

Her situation was almost completely opposite of mine. What a lonely way to live. If it wasn't outrageously unacceptable for me to do so, I would track down Franz and shake him until he paid attention to his poor wife.


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