As soon as the moon rose, Tilly climbed out of her bed. No one had known she was gone that day; her ruse had worked! But in order to truly succeed she still need to bake the apples into pies. So she slunk out of her room, her apples slung over her shoulder, and made her way to the kitchens. Due to the later hour, it was empty.
Tilly quickly locked the door and set to work. She pulled out flour and sugar and eggs, chopped apples until her wrists hurt. She rolled crusts, added caramel and cinnamon to some and nothing to others. When she finished, she had twelve pies baking in the oven.
Tilly scrubbed all the pots and pans clean as she waited for them to bake. When they were done, she decorated each one with care to ensure they were perfect. She set them all on an empty table once she was done to admire her handiwork.
"Matilda?" a groggy voice called.
Tilly jumped and spun around. There, standing in the doorway leading to the wine cellar, was King Roland.
"Father?" Tilly gaped. "What…what are you doing here?"
"I uh, I came down for…" He looked at the dark glass bottle in his hand. "it doesn't matter. What are you doing here?"
"Well, you said we needed more deserts for the Villager's Ball tomorrow, well, today, I guess, so I decided to make some apple pies," Tilly declared boldly. "I wanted to help."
King Roland walked forward and stared at her pies for a moment.
"We can't serve these, any of these," he said simply.
"Wha…why?" Tilly demanded. "The head chef says I'm a really good baker and I washed my hands and everything! It is because you think it's wrong for a princess to bake?"
"No, Matilda," Roland sighed and sat down on a bench by the table. "Your mother thought we should have a theme for this year's ball. And she chose berries. All the food is berry related. Blackberry pies, strawberry tarts, raspberry ice cream."
"Oh."
"So we can't serve apple pies."
Tilly sank down on the bench next to her father. She'd tried to provide for her people and failed epically. Maybe Garrick had been right. Maybe she couldn't be queen.
"You were just trying to help, Matilda," King Roland said suddenly, taking a swig from his bottle. "You decide if you're going to abdicate yet?"
"Well…I don't know if I'd be a good queen. You probably think that too," Tilly admitted. Something about the dark and quiet kitchens made her feel like she could be honest.
"You're often thinking about nonsense, yes, but that doesn't matter. Because you can choose to be better and be a queen."
"Can I ask you something, Father?"
"Go ahead. Got nothing better to do."
"Do you like it? Ruling, I mean?"
"I don't hate it, exactly," King Roland sighed. "There are perks: the castle, the food, the honor and glory. But I'm not passionate about ruling. When I picked a school after Royal Prep I picked Ever Realm Academy out of a sense of duty, not because I wanted to. I was an only child, the only heir. I had no choice but to be king."
"You couldn't abdicate?"
"I could've. Thought it about it when I realized I didn't really care for my lessons at Ever Realm. But I had no siblings to step in for me. If I had abdicated, the crown would've moved to a different family. And I thought I would be abandoning my duty and responsibility if I abdicated."
"Do you wish you had?"
"Some days. Life would be easier. But I think the guilt would have been too much for me. But you, Matilda, have a choice. You have a brother to take your place if you do not want the crown."
"Are you saying I should abdicate?" Tilly's head was spinning.
"I'm saying you can do what I never could and choose something that makes you happy, something you're passionate about. But know if you choose the crown you will need to sacrifice so much for your people. And you need to do it without hesitation, lest other kingdoms think you're weak."
"What…what have you sacrificed?"
"My youth," Roland chuckled as he dragged a hand through his graying hair. "My time. My joy. My family." His voice grew thick. "For years I've been so focused on my duty to the people and what I owe them. I've been giving them all I have, sQuondering every chance I have with my family because I thought that was right. I…I don't even know your favorite color, Matilda! Or what you want for a graduation gift. Or even how to tell you I'm so proud of you with how you've tried to provide for our people."
"You're proud of me?" Tilly repeated with tears in her eyes.
I want to be a better dad for you and Roland.
Tilly flinched at the words, stunned. He hadn't said that…
The twinkling purple gem around her neck caught her eye. Her amulet, her powers…
"My favorite color is ocean blue, like the water at Merroway Cover," Tilly said. Roland turned to her and looked as though he'd forgotten she was there. "Because it reminds me of our family vacations. And I love history books, especially about our kingdom. And…I know you're proud of me."
"Thank you, Matilda," Roland whispered, his eyes glistening.
"Why don't you call me Tilly?" she wondered.
"Matilda was my aunt's name," Roland explained. "Well, her middle name. She dealt with a lot of hardship in her life: her husband died, she was attacked and badly maimed…but she never let it get to her. She was kind, strong, and everything I want you to be. So I don't shorten your name because I like imagining what you'll be one day."
"What will I be?"
"Strong. Wise and good. And happy, I hope. I just want you to be happy," Roland muttered, slumping against the table. In moments he was snoring softly.
"Thank you, Father," Tilly whispered, pressing a kiss against his forehead before leaving him to his slumber.
