AN: Many thanks to MySecretHeart101 for being my first non-ambamber reviewer! And of course, many many thanks to ambamber again for your constant reviews. All of them make my day. :)
We got some snow around where I live, which is really nice this late in the year. Anyway, back on-topic, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chapter IX: Beauty

"Good morning, father," a young woman sang, coming into the kitchen. She saw her father asleep, slumped over the wooden table, and prodded him awake.

"What?" he asked groggily. "Oh. Good morning, Bella."

Bella, a girl of great beauty and childlike grace, smiled at her father and began the morning preparations. Their family owned a bakery, and though the baker was very good at his trade, they got most of their business from Bella. The young men in town would come in to try and woo her over, and the old men would come to see if the rumors were true. According to the members of the local tavern, she could bake so fast, they didn't have time to sell one loaf before there was another in the oven.

"Why did you fall asleep here?" she asked, tying her hair back and flouring the countertop in preparation for a new batch of bread. "Are you worried about something?"

"Next week," he moaned, putting his head back down on the table. "The wedding's been moved to next week."

"The wedding? Prince James and Miranda's wedding?"

"That's the one."

"Next week! It's at least a three-day trip to the castle, and that's even taking the shortcut through the woods!"

"I'm aware."

"Well... We have to get this cake ready right away! Father, father, get up! We don't have any time to waste!"

Bella's father grumbled a little bit, but knew what she said was true. He got up on his feet and showed his daughter the plans for the wedding cake.

"Elizabeth? Michelle? I need your help!" Bella called out to her sisters.

The twin girls shuffled sleepily down the hall.

"What is it, Bella?"

"It's too early for baking."

"Father has two days to make this wedding cake, and you must help. We're not opening the shop today, we'll be too busy."

"How are you awake this early?" Elizabeth mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "It's hardly sunrise."

"It was sunrise an hour ago. Beth, please, see how much sugar we have left. No, that won't be enough for even half the frosting... See if you can get some at the market. Hannah usually gives us a discount price."

The kitchen set to work. The twins' annoyed complains were only accented by Bella's.

"Next week! When did they tell you this?"

"Last night," her father answered. "There was a letter."

"And they just told you? They didn't say anything more about it?"

"It was a very formal letter, Bella."

"That's absurd! That's unthinkable! Those spoiled, self-centered royals, they think they can just command anything and it'll be done! No regard to anyone but themselves! It's selfish, and stupid, and you shouldn't stand for it!"

Her father sighed. "You know, Bella, you're just like your mother."

Bella just continued with her work. "She wouldn't stand for this kind of thing either, and you know it."

"Bella, one doesn't argue with royalty. They have their own reasons-"

"Reasons? Like what? The roses the bride wanted didn't bloom in that month? They had to invite some duke from some other kingdom and try to make a good impression? Did it even cross their minds that it might be a little bit difficult to make a wedding cake in three days? Hm?"

She was stirring the batter furiously now. Her father put his hands on hers gently, a gesture telling her to slow down.

"If you overmix it, it will be too aerated and won't rise properly. Leave that as it is."

"I'm sorry. I'm just... angry."

"I know. But all we can do now is work our hardest. We'll get it done."

Bella nodded, and set the batter aside.

"Besides, Bella," Michelle chimed beside her, "the Royal Family is going to make us rich! We can have all the pretty dresses and necklaces we want."

Bella couldn't help but smile. "Of course we will, Michelle. All the jewelry we want."

The family continued to work. When they had nothing to do, waiting for something to bake or Elizabeth's return with a third bag of flour, they helped their father pack his things for the long journey.

Bella was interrupted in her preparation of the frosting by a banging at the front door of the bakery.

"Don't worry about it, father, I'll get it," she said, licking a stray bit of batter off her thumb and opening the door.

"Why, good morning Bella," the boy said, leaning on the doorframe.

Bella bit her lower lip, trying to keep herself from slamming the door in his face. "Good morning, Richard," she said, not inviting him in.

Richard was their regular customer, but not because he particularly enjoyed their bread. He instead enjoyed looking at Bella, bouncing marriage proposals around, and deluding himself in believing that Bella actually enjoyed his stuck-up, self-centered presence.

"I must say," he said, "you look rather lovely when you're covered in flour."

"You said that last week."

"Did I? Well it's no less true."

"Oh really?"

"Do you know," he said conversationally, "how you could look even more lovely?"

"I can think of a few ways."

He continued as if he hadn't even heard her. "Sitting by my fireplace, by my side, as we wait for another of your delectable breads to finish baking."

She rolled her eyes. "If you're going to try to seduce me, at least be a bit more creative about it. Is there a reason you came, or do I have permission to shut the door in your face?"

"Oh, you're feisty, aren't you?" he said, amused. She moved to slam the door, and he quickly backtracked. "I came to purchase some bread, actually, but you seem to be closed. Why?"

"It's none of your concern. We'll probably be open tomorrow, if only for a little while. Good day to you, Richard."

She shut the door and listened to his footsteps die off, before heading back to the kitchen. She needed to finish that frosting.

It was the middle of the night.

Tiny flurries of snow swirled around in the lamplight, catching themselves on her hair, melting as they touched her skin.

Gerda wrapped the red cloak tighter around her shoulders and continued down the path.

"Gerda?" She heard a voice behind her, and stopped. "What are you doing out here?"

Tears were threatening, but she took a deep breath and said, "I'm looking for him."

"Come inside. It's too cold out here tonight."

"But... I can't just leave him."

"I know. We won't. But for now, come inside. I have something warm for you to drink."

Gerda sighed, staring at the ground. "Yes, Granny."

The girl sat inside, sipping her hot milk, not meeting her grandmother's eyes.

"You were going to venture out into the woods," the older woman said.

It wasn't a question, but Gerda whispered, "Yes, I was."

"Alone, not telling me where you were going."

"I left a note."

Granny Red sighed. "Gigi... You aren't the impulsive type. Going out there alone, with no idea where you're going, that's just not like you."

"I need to find Kai, Granny. I... I just need to."

"I know you do, darling, but-"

"You don't understand," Gerda interrupted. "I need to find him. I feel like he's in trouble."

"You know, everyone says he drowned in the river," Granny said.

"I know."

"You also should know that I don't believe everyone I hear."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Granny said, wiping a tear that had stalled on Gerda's cheek, "that it's about time somebody went and looked for that boy."

"You're saying I can go?"

"I'm saying, in a few days, when you've packed a few things for your trip, you can go."

Gerda, overwhelmed with joy, stood up and hugged her grandmother. "I promise, Granny, I'll find Kai."