The maid looked over her shoulder multiple times before pushing the kitchen door open. It was hot in her work room where she spent her days as a seamstress's apprentice. The princess Hella grew quickly and required new gowns almost constantly. The maid much preferred the little gowns to armor and tunics for the princes. She loved her job but often worked through meals to meet deadlines. At least Princess Hella would have her gown for Prince Modi's coming-of-age feast tomorrow. Yet at thirteen, she would quickly outgrow it and need another.

A friend who worked in the kitchen mentioned there were always leftovers stored for the cooks to repurpose the next day for the servants' breakfasts. The maid licked her lips as she explored. She happened upon a half a great chocolate cake, frosted with summerberry frosting. Her mouth watered. She sneaked toward it, glancing around as she did. She rummaged through the drawers, hunting for a knife.

As soon as she'd taken a bite of the cake and sighed happily as she leaned against the counter, the kitchen door swung open. She nearly choked as she dropped to the floor, the cake still in her hand. Please, not the batty old cook.

"Father, you were right! Cake!" a small voice came. Light footfalls echoed and the maid knew someone was on the opposite side of the counter from her.

"Of course there's cake. Father said there would be," a second doubtful voice replied.

"A hopeful deduction," a regal voice came.

The maid's heart stopped. The prince and his sons had the same idea as her. Somehow she was certain the rest of the serving staff would find their midnight raid more acceptable than hers. It was their food, after all.

"May we bring a piece for Hella? Summerberries are her favorite."

Loki smiled and ruffled Jory's jet-black hair. It stuck up in all directions. "That's very thoughtful of you. I think your sister would like that."

Fen was staring wide-eyed at the cake. "Do we have to wait to eat ours with her?" He glanced up at Loki before sighing. "It would be the most proper, I know."

Loki chuckled. "Your grandmother would be thrilled to death to her such sentiment. I think we can enjoy our stolen wares right here and right now! Come, let's find something to cut this with, aye?"

The maid had held her breath so long she got light-headed. She pressed herself up against the cabinets, desperately thinking of an escape plan. There was nowhere for her to run without being spotted. She was going to lose her job and her place in the palace, all for a piece of cake.

"I sure miss Aunt Darcy, but it's kind of fun when she's away with Aunt Jane," Jory noted as he poked through drawers.

"Remember our rule," Loki said as he hopped the counter in a swift leap. "You know she tries her best to keep you wild lot eating well. It'd be best if she didn't know."

"I won't tell!" The maid burst.

Loki stared in shock. Fatherhood had made him hardier in that not much surprised him anymore, but it wasn't often that someone could evade his senses. "Oh, good evening, Miss. Ingrid, isn't it?"

The maid nodded, her teeth chattering in horror. "I'm terribly sorry, Your Grace. W-we were sewing on the princess's d-dress all day and I've missed the meals and I thought it might be all right if I just took one little,"

Loki held up his hand. The maid trembled and stopped talking. Jory and Fen peeked over the counter curiously.

"We won't tell if you won't tell," Loki said with a smile. "Come, I believe you can actually be of assistance to us."

The maid took Loki's hand as he helped her up. She still held the piece of cake in her other hand. "Y-yes, My Lord?"

"Have you seen a knife? You seem to have had the same idea as the princes. They're after the cake."

"So is Father," Fen piped. "It was his idea because we've been good."

"We're always good," Jory added. "We'd not like Modi."

The maid smiled and pulled the knife from a drawer. "Certainly, Your Graces." She hunted for plates.

"Ingrid," Loki stopped her. "You are off of work! No serving. Come, pull up a stool and join us."

Fen and Jory licked their lips hungrily, hardly looking away from the cake. Ingrid perched on a stool across from the princes as Loki sliced generous slices of cake and dished them up.

"Little vultures, these boys," Loki said as he slid plates to them. The boys dug in as if they hadn't eaten for days.

"Growing boys need nourishment," Ingrid noted as she nibbled at her own slice.

Loki laughed. "Oh, certainly." He ate his slice of cake from his hand as if it were a slice of bread. "How nourishing all of the cook's tarts and pies are. Something went wrong in the womb. My children were all born with a large inoperable sweet tooth."

Fen and Jory giggled. "It was your idea, Father!" Fen squealed. "Don't let him fool you. Uncle Thor says he's a trickster."

Ingrid nodded solemnly at the boys. "And what do you think?"

Jory shook his head vigorously. "Father is honest and good like a man should be."

Fen shrugged. "If being tricky means cake in secret, I like tricky."

"Come on boys," Loki said, brushing the crumbs off his hands and winking at the maid. "We should let Ingrid enjoy her snack in peace." He ushered the boys toward the door, then paused. "Miss Ingrid, make yourself a good meal. If anyone says anything, send them my way."

"It was nice to meet you, Miss Ingrid," Jory called.

"Yeah, thanks for havin' cake with us!" Fen pushed open the door and the boys disappeared into the hallway.

Ingrid curtseyed. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Loki turned to leave, then paused. "Miss, are you happy as a seamstress?"

Ingrid nodded. "Certainly. I'm humbled to have a place in the castle, Your G-"

"No, no, no." Loki shook his hands. "Enough of the formalities. Hella is getting older and will need handmaidens. I imagine you would get along swimmingly; she has a penchant for late-night shenanigans as well."

Ingrid's face lit up. All of the serving staff envied the handmaidens and personal guards. Living closer with the royalty meant enjoying more perks.

"That expression looks promising," Loki laughed. "Take your time and decide."

Ingrid nodded. "Who shall I inform of my decision?"

Loki cocked his head to the side and cut himself another piece of cake. "Why, me. It's not like we're horribly unapproachable, are we?" He smiled. "I'm glad to have met you again, Miss Ingrid. I had better go find the boys." He stuffed the entire piece of cake into his mouth and winked before turning.

***

"Hel," Loki said, strolling through her chambers. He knew she'd be on the balcony, despite the late hour. It was a beautiful night and the stars were bright. He had wrapped her piece of cake in a napkin. "Hey, Hel. Your brothers and I raided the kitchen and they wanted me to bring you the spoils."

"Go away," Hel's voice came.

Loki sighed. Hella was a new teenager and her angst was formidable. "Can you not even permit your father if he brings you summerfruit and chocolate cake?"

"Maybe."

Loki tried not to grin as he walked onto the balcony and leaned next to Hella on the railing. He sat the cake in front of her. "A sure cure for whatever ails you."

"I don't think even chocolate and summerfruit cake can mend a broken heart," Hella sighed, unwrapping the cake.

"A broken heart?" Loki frowned. "Let's have the story."

Hella ate her cake and shook her head. Tears clung to her long eyelashes, and Loki couldn't help but notice how similar she looked to Chelsea at the same age. After finishing the cake, Hella said softly, "I wish Mother was here."

Loki nodded. "I do, too. Every day."

"It's easier when Aunt Darcy is here," Hella sighed. "It's hard to not have a mother. Aunt D makes me feel a little less alone."

"Should we call her, you know she would return immediately."

Hella nodded. "I know. She deserves a vacation, too." When her father didn't answer, Hella knew he was waiting for her to go on. "It's Balder. I thought he liked me, but he doesn't." She hung her head. "It was stupid to get my hopes up."

"Does he fancy another girl?"

"No," Hella sighed. "He doesn't like anyone. He only likes his books and studies." She leaned upon her hand and glanced at her father. "But he's perfect. All of the other boys are stupid warriors. They like me, but I don't want to marry someone who doesn't do anything but swing their swords around."

Loki wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulders. "How many times do I say it a day?"

"I sound like Mother?" Hella said, perking up. "That always makes me feel better. She was different too, right?"

Nodding, Loki replied, "Most certainly. While Sif was on the pitch sparring with the warriors and the other girls were weaving and spending time in the kitchens or as apprentices, your mother was reading and trying to get me to teach her magic."

Hella laughed, her boy troubles long-forgotten. "I didn't know that. Did she even learn?" She gave a lazy flick of the finger and Tiger materialized. Entirely used to being transported about by now, he shook his fur out and snuffled at the empty cake napkin.

"Truthfully, I never wanted to teach her. I was afraid if she learned magic on her own, she'd stop coming around." He chuckled.

Hella tutted. After a moment, she threw her arms around Loki. "I'm glad you came by with the cake. I always feel better after we talk. And after cake."

"Give it a few years," Loki said. "Balder will come around. Give him some time to figure out how great you are. It'll hit him square in the chest one day and he'll realized he's liked you all along."

Hel tried her hardest not to smile, but failed.

"Come on. Let's go entertain your brothers before they burn down the palace."