His father only tolerated the Knight getting up early for about five days. Then he told him that since all employees got at least two days where they didn’t come in early, he wasn’t allowed to work early for a few days. The Knight begrudgingly agreed to this. Surely he’d been working hard enough, he’d sleep through the night. He went to bed full of hope only to wake up in a panic again at three in the morning again. He could not survive like this…Apparently his father wasn’t going in early that day, so he got up anyway and went into the kitchen. He’d just make breakfast and other treats for everyone. He decided to start with small tarts and cookies to give out later. As the sun started to rise he began breakfast. It was his youngest brother that caught him first.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Making breakfast!” the Knight replied.

The boy slid into his seat almost cautiously as he surveyed the kitchen. “Thank you. How long have you been awake?”

“I don’t know,” the Knight replied. He lied, he knew exactly when he woke up.

“Do you wake up this early at the palace?”

“Sometimes…”

Never. He never woke up this early. When he did night patrols it usually ended around one or two in the morning, and that was because they wanted him to at least check in with the Princess at eight, even if he wouldn’t guard her that day. He could not rest here at all. He felt like he was in a spiral and the worry he sensed from his brother was making it worse…

“Bro, your hands are shaking. I can finish breakfast. Go get some more rest,” his brother said The Knight was about to protest, there was no way he’d be so fragile as to be shaking over breakfast, but he finally looked at his own hands. He was shaking. What was happening? Why was he falling apart like this? Was he that dependent on the Princess? He allowed his brother to take over. Maybe he should just relax. He did manage a nap for a few minutes, when he returned to the kitchen, the whole family was there. The cocktail of positive and negative emotions hit him like a wall. He did not know how to process any of this. They were worried and yet they had confidence he could pull through. They felt guilty over something but they were also proud of him. They were sad he wasn’t feeling well, but happy to see him. He didn’t read disappointment but he was convinced that was what they were feeling.

He hid it fairly well, but he was short of breath. He didn’t want to feel this way about his family. The one thing that dissipated all their worries was when they tried his pastries.

“These are super good, did you really just make these after observing us at the bakery for a few days?” his father asked.

“Yes. Is that okay?” he asked. He had such a headache, hearing a rejection would probably put him in bed for the rest of the day.

“It’s amazing! I’m so impressed! Maybe having an aptitude for baking runs in the family!” 

That made him feel ever so slightly better.

“Can I give them out to the neighborhood kids this afternoon? I made so many,” the Knight asked.

“Of course. You can’t seem to sit still, I don’t think I can stop you!” his father said. The Knight was overjoyed. He allowed his mother to pack up the treats and he got ready to go into town. He felt nostalgic going places with his father like this. They used to be thick as thieves and went everywhere together. However he sensed his father’s unease as they walked along. He hated this bittersweetness he sensed. His father was happy and yet so darkly sad it made the Knight sick to his stomach as though he’d consumed foods that do not pair well together. A mix of positive and negative emotions was normal, why could he not handle it?

They arrived at the bakery. Things seemed to level out there. The employees seemed to only have good feelings toward him, and once the neighborhood children arrived, he was further soothed. The first child popped her head in, wide eyed and curious.

“Are you the Knight from the palace?” she asked. “Momma said you were at the bakery.”

“I am!” he said. She clapped her hands.

“Wait a minute!” she said. She ran off and seemed to be speaking to her friends. They came back ready with tons of questions.

“Where’s your sword?”

“What’s the Princess like?”

“How long did you train?”

“What are you doing here?”

Their curiosity felt like bubbles and helped to elevate his sour mood. He gave them tarts and cookies and that started the steady stream of children that came with questions (and loved his treats). He relished this relief from the stress he faced with his family. That relief was short-lived. In walked the baron’s daughter, obviously preened and groomed to catch his attention.

The Princess had always been jealous that he could mask his emotions. If only she could see him now, unable to stop himself from frowning deeply. He remembered the baron’s daughter, the way she wouldn’t even show him the barest of kindnesses when he would care for her horse. Now she was pretending that they actually knew each other well enough for him to give her tours of restricted areas of the palace. He could read it, she was disgusted and upset to have to come to the bakery and not their house, she was determined to get him to agree to something.

“Run along, children,” she said as she shooed them away with her fan. He didn’t want the children to see him being unpleasant so he allowed this.

“Close up the shop, we have much to discuss,” she said.

“This is part of my family’s livelihood. We won’t be closing for you unless you’re willing to pay for the lost revenue,” he said flatly. He could sense the nervousness of those in the back. She wasn’t expecting him to say that, he could feel the surprise.

“How much could that be? I’ll pay,” she said.

“Does your father approve of you spending that much money? Will you also pay for the labor it will take to distribute the unpurchased food to the needy and the unused ingredients? Please think before you make rash statements. All you want is to make a request so we can step outside so I can hear you out.”

“I-It is…of a personal nature, I’d rather not discuss this in public,” she said. She was nervous now. Why did she think that all these years later, she could intimidate him? Did she not know exactly what had happened over the years?

“Fine, I’ll see you at our house,” the Knight said.

“Excellent! We can take my carriage and—”

“No. You’ll take your carriage. I’ll walk,” he said.

He needed the walk. She was giving the same sneaky, smug and superior readings he’d gotten from the women at the Princess’s tea party. He didn’t like people like that, they valued no one unless they were somehow of benefit to them. All people were tools. He didn’t want anyone like that in his life and he certainly didn’t want the Princess to feel like she had to be nice to the baron’s daughter because he knew her from back home. The Princess was just like that, anyone she’d ever met who he identified as supporting him, she showered with praise and gifts. He didn’t even want her to misunderstand the baron’s daughter as ever being charitable toward him. This woman did not deserve the attention of his beloved Princess.

The walk was good for him. Breathing in the fresh air, enjoying people’s flowers, greeting genuinely pleasant people, set him at ease so he wouldn’t be quite so cold to this woman once he arrived home. However his good mood was rattled when he saw his mother and the housekeeper. They were standing sheepishly outside the door, agitated and white faced. All his mother had to do was shoot him an apologetic look and he knew. He had to end this quickly, the baron’s daughter didn’t deserve the courtesy he’d attempted to summon. His mother held his hand.

“Be nice,” she whispered. So even she could tell he was in a bad mood. He entered the drawing room, still in his apron from the bakery. The baron’s daughter seemed surprised.

“You’re not going to dress nicely for our discussion?” she asked.

He crossed his arms.

“You’re the one making a request and you want me to bend to your will?” he said. She seemed taken aback. He rarely used his powers this way, but he decided this time he would.

“You want me to take you to the founding ball, correct?”

“Y-yes…”

“Why should I? Right now you’re upset that you have to grovel to the stable hand that you used to sneer at. You’re upset that I don’t bend over backwards to cater to you because of your station. Do you not understand how daft that is?”

She unfolded her fan and used it to hide her face. “ I am a lady of rank. A knight should be treating me more delicately,” she said.

“Someone has been reading too many fairy tales. A knight’s code of honor does not cover being polite to ladies who want to use them to make social and political connections. Or someone who lied about meeting me at the palace and giving a tour of the Princess’s garden. Do you deny this? You told the whole village this story. You couldn’t possibly want to go with me to the ball for any other reason than to make yourself look good and be able to brag to everyone back home.”

“Well…you are a man of good station so naturally I–”

“I can’t take you to the ball anyway. I’m already going with someone,” he said.

“You couldn’t possibly have found someone!” she said.

“Why not? There are many ladies that go in and out of the palace on a given day. However, I’m not taking them. Mother, would you come in here please?”

His mother entered sheepishly. He held out his hand and she came over.

“I’m taking my parents to the founding ball,” he said

“What? Why would you ever take some low born–”

“They’re my parents. Maybe you’ve forgotten, I’m low born and you were fully willing to go with me,” he said. “I’m taking them. You’ll have to hear how dazzling they were from others.”

She got up and started to leave. She turned to say something but he got to it first.

“Sure. Tell me how I’ve overstepped my place. The man who has a direct line to royalty. Just go. As I recall, you ‘wouldn’t want to be caught dead near a smelly horse boy’ and one of my duties is to care for the Princess’s horse. Sorry, still a horse boy, even if I smell nicer these days.”

The baron’s daughter stormed out and he could not have been happier. She was a tangle of snaking black emotions and he didn’t like the way they felt when he sensed them. His mother had clasped his hand tightly and now settled beside him on the couch.

“You were bluffing,'' she said. “There’s no way you’d take us to the founding ball.”

“I’m absolutely taking you. I promised the Princess I’d bring her back a gift and you guys are the gift.”

“No, no, that won’t do.”

“I’m ready to pay for your lodgings and I have already purchased your clothing. And of course your travel expenses–”

“No, I mean, us as a gift won’t be enough! I was working on a blanket for her, but now I’ll have to work extra hard and finish it sooner. Your brother was making her new reins for her horse with flower patterns etched in it, and now he’ll have to hurry along. Your father needs to perfect his tart recipe. You really can’t just spring stuff like that on us!” she said.

He laughed and hugged his mother and she hugged him back. His Princess would ​​be happy for certain.