Food Story 

♣
It was the evening of the Annual Summer Solstice Ball, and the moon’s glow was 
remarkably brighter on the Brisiana Palace than years before. Rumors had spread 
amongst the people that tonight was to be a very special one, even to Prince Victor and 
his best friend, William, who were standing between two of the six pillars that 
encircled the large marble dance floor. 
“William,” Victor began, “The soothsayer told my parents this morning that she 
foretold something of great importance was to happen tonight. She didn’t say whether 
it were to be good or bad, but I have an odd feeling it might be bad.” He looked at his 
friend through his black mask. 
William, behind his white mask, suddenly turned to his friend. “You don’t mean. 
. . The rebels? Victor, my men and I were sure to find as many as there were all 
throughout the kingdom. We are armed all around the palace.” his hand instinctively 
rested on his rapier in its sheath on his hip. 
Victor shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t think it will be about the rebels, but 
we never know, do we? And I don’t doubt your men or you, Will, but I don’t trust the 
likelihood of the remaining rebels staying dormant for long, either.” 
They were walking when William’s footsteps slowed as his eyes landed on 
something—or rather, ​someone’s​—atop the grand entrance staircase. Their masks 
concealed their faces around their eyes, making them unrecognizable. No herald was 
there to announce the late newcomers. No introduction or greeting. “Victor, look,” he 
pressed the back of his hand to his friend’s chest, bringing him to a halt. 
Victor’s eyes followed his gaze to the front doors and they were silent. “Do you 
recognize them?.” 
“I can’t say I do.” he answered.  
“I may not know the name of each and every lord and lady here tonight, but 
they definitely don’t seem familiar.” 
 The entire ballroom took notice of the pair that hesitated and froze at the 
attention they had garnered. The golden-haired one nodded at the chestnut-haired one 
and they descended down the steps; Goldie careful and slow, Chestnut slow but 
wobbly. The masked guests returned to their previous engagements, but William and 
Victor’s eyes were still cast upon the two, quizzed at their identities. When they made 
it to the bottom, they became lost in the gentry.  
The two young men had both heard every guest's announcement upon arrival 
and had greeted them personally. Those two were the only exception. The boys 
exchanged curious glances and changed direction in unison. 
“How’d they come without me already knowing them?” Victor pondered. 
“Perhaps they are noble maidens who have just settled in the kingdom.” William 
suggested. 
Their share of looks was laced with suspicion this time, curiosity still dominant 
and growing stronger. Their eyes skimmed over the crowd, in search of a new pair of 
honey and chocolate, when they were intercepted by a royal councilman, “Good 
evening, Your Highness,” he bowed to Victor, “and to you, Your Lordship,” he bowed to 
William. “Prince Victor, the Queen requests a word with you on the left balcony.”  
The pair bowed their head in greeting, “Thank you for the notice, I’ll be on my 
way,” Victor dismissed the councilman and turned to William when he left, “I’ll see 
what this is about. You see what you can do about discovering their identities. I will 
find you after.” 
William nodded and they parted ways. William rubbed his head, fingers 
detangling imaginary knots in his caramel hair. He was walking when suddenly 
stopped by a red-headed maiden. Her ivory skin brought out the faint freckles dotting 
her nose and cheeks. Even behind the emerald mask that matched her dress, her 
cunning eyes were as familiar as the back of his palm.  
“Good evening, William,” she purred, swirling the deep red wine in her glass 
around, “my, don’t you look dashing tonight.”  
 His face was slack of any emotion. He bowed and straightened back up rigidly, 
“Good evening, Lady Dane. Are you enjoying the masquerade ball?” 
He really couldn’t care less what she thought. 
Her ruby lips stretched to reveal a polished smile. “I am, but I wish I could say 
that it is as enjoyable as when I was in your arms for our many past dances.” Her rose 
scent was intoxicatingly strong as she closed the distance between them. He could 
smell the alcohol coming from her glass as she took a sip and it made him grimace.  
He was never very fond of strong wines.  
William’s knuckles were white behind his back, his eyes fixated on a tapestry 
hung on the wall behind her. “I am sorry to hear that. Perhaps you can find another, 
more gullible gentleman who will be willing to waste his time with you.” he looked at 
her this time, satisfied with the flash of shock she wore momentarily before smoothing 
it out and slipping into her snake-like expression. “I must take my leave, excuse me.” 
He slid past her, doing little to hide his disinterest. He found himself at the food 
table after going anywhere to escape her. He could already feel the loosening of the 
tension of his muscles and immediately felt better. A waiter walked by, offering a tray 
of champagne flutes. William took one graciously and tipped his head in thanks. He 
sniffed to check the strength of the alcohol. A faint scent of champagne familiarized 
him, but he also sensed the ever so delicate smell of. . . peppermint? When he deemed it 
mild enough, he tilted the glass at his lips and remembered that he was in search of 
those mystery ladies as the bubbly liquid fizzled in his mouth and hit him with a light 
punch. 
William craned his neck and scanned the ballroom. How was he supposed to 
find them in such a crowd? His breath was cool as he sighed. He took another sip from 
his glass and turned to examine the food that the king had laid out.  
Victor’s parents were known among the four neighbouring kingdoms to have 
the most delectable foods at their inivationals. They had the best tastes that any money 
could buy, that the most renowned chefs and bakers could formulate.  
 Tonight was no exception. The dozens of tables that stretched the length of the 
long stone wall were covered lavishly in all sorts of delights to cater the hundreds of 
aristocrats and nobles people that night. There were platters of slow-roasted peacock 
that glistened as the cooks finished them by drizzling a glossy orange sauce over the 
crispy skins. Pastry artists were balancing on ladders completing a golden mountain of 
croquembouche that stood so tall William had to crane his neck to see the top, the 
hundreds of delicate, cloud-like pastries draped in sugary gossamer threads. Guests 
were raving over the waterfall of lilac soup that had a vibrant purple hue and 
apparently tasted the way springtime felt. The guests oohed and ahhed as 10-pound 
lobster tails en flambe were being juggled by chef-entertainers on stilts before being 
sliced mid-air, served in bread bowls with a creamy bisque. And that was only the first 
few tables! 
The food never failed to amaze William with all its unimaginable tastes and 
visuals, even after 8 years of working in the castle. This was most likely due to the fact 
that as a boy, William grew up on stale bread, cold slivers of potato and salted, dried 
meat if his family was lucky enough to have​ anything ​to eat during those unforgiving 
nights. It also never failed to hurt his heart to think of all the families that could be fed 
with all this food that the upper class at the ball, but were too afraid to truly appreciate 
in fear of looking a little too plump in their corsets and collars. 
His eyes skipped down the tables as his nose became overwhelmed in the best 
way with all the sweet and savoury smells. His eyes went down the table and fell onto a 
lady with hair of honey, smiling to a girl with chestnut hair, whose back was turned to 
his direction.  
“I told you not to eat so fast,” Goldie laughed. Her voice warm and smooth like 
butter, unlike the shrill saccharine squeals of the other ladies. It was refreshing and 
unconsciously pulled his lips into a grin. “Now you’re going to get crumbs all over the 
nice dress you finally got to wear!” 
Chestnut’s head was making small jerks—it looked like she was choking. Before 
William could take a step closer, he heard her recover from her coughing fit, “Oh you’re 
right, but they’re so good! I’ve never tasted so many incredible things! Did you see the 
lobsters? They were on ​fire​!”  
Goldie smiled and shook her head as she helped Chestnut dust the crumbs off 
her dress, while Chestnut touched up a few flying hairs off Goldie’s mask. Chestnut 
swallowed again before speaking, quieter this time. “Listen, I know the mission is 
important, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” She reached for a crystal plate 
in the shape of a leaf with a colorfully decorated shrimp on it and munched away 
happily.  
The word m
​ ission​ struck another part of William’s interest immediately and his 
feet began to slowly make their way closer to the pair. They didn’t ​look ​like the rebels 
he normally arrested in the villages. 
Goldie hugged her hands to her chest, “This place is even more beautiful than 
the pictures. Do you think we’ll get to dance with anyone?” she sighed dreamily as she 
turned her head to the large crowd on the ballroom dance floor.  
“I’m not dancing with anyone until I try every single thing on this table.” 
Chestnut declared. She held up a pink macaron between her thumb and index finger, 
examining its smooth shell before taking a slow, savouring bite. "You know the 
ganache is e ​ n these macarons. I taste cranberries . . Hazelnut. . Is that 
​ xquisite o
mascarpone?” Chestnut inquired thoughtfully as William neared.  
Goldie suddenly took notice of him behind her friend and he saw her stiffen; it 
was difficult to tell if her eyes were wide as his behind her silver mask.  
“The shells are lovely—nice and delicate too, I read online that a proper 
​ ital t​ o the perfect cookie texture,“  
meringue is v
What did she mean by ‘online’? 
Chestnut tilted her head. “Are you alright?” When she saw Goldie’s eyes flicker 
from him and back to herself, Chestnut turned and understood Goldie’s sudden pallor.  
William chuckled at their reactions. He could have been headless with the way 
their mouths hung. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your critique of the 
desserts, my lady.” He bowed apologetically. The girls looked at each other, sharing a 
short, silent exchange of thought. “Though, I can’t blame you, they do look wondrous. 
His Majesty always ensures that only the best be served to his guests.”  
He turned towards the tables and scoped out one of his favourites: saffron peach 
crème served on sugar glass petals. He picked one up carefully and took a bite, 
revelling in the slightly tangy cream, chewing the fresh fruit that burst with juice, 
grounded by the crunch of the petals; Chef François’ signature piece.  
Chestnut blinked and that small action seemed to bring her soul back into her 
body. “I-uh yes. His Majesty is very considerate to do so.” she tried to calm her 
quivering voice.  
“I’m afraid I have never seen you at His Majesty’s invitationals before. May I ask 
your names, fair maidens? I am Sir William Eversteen, Captain of the Guard.” he 
introduced after clearing his throat.  
Chestnut thought for a moment before curtsying and stood back up replying, 
“Lady, uh, Courtland, a pleasure.” Lady Courtland elbowed Goldie, smiling.  
Goldie shook her head as if to shake herself out of a daze. She inhaled and found 
her voice before curtsying, “Lady. . . Laverdee. Lovely to meet you, Sir William.” 
William took Lady Laverdee’s fingers between his gloved one and smiled when 
he heard her gasp a short breath before drawing back to his full height, “It is an honour 
to make your acquaintances. Are you ladies new to the kingdom?”  
Another swift exchange of wide-eyed looks. 
“Actually, um, we have just arrived to the kingdom, yes. We are from the 
neighbouring town.” Lady Laverdee answered this time, her voice a bit unsure but soft, 
stirring warmth in his chest. Lady Courtland nodded in agreeance, looking relieved in 
not having answer.  
“Well I am glad to welcome you to the Kingdom of Brisiana,” William’s 
expression warmed sincerely but slowly began to edge towards suspicion. Why did 
they seem so nervous? He then remembered that he and Victor were determined to 
find out who they were, “Are you ladies aristocrats? A gallant member of our noble 
gentry?“ 
 Lady Courtland and Lady Laverdee’s demeanors were calm and collected, but 
their eyes were frantic. They stuttered, “Oh—”, “uh—”, "well um-“, “actually—”. 
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” A voice announced to the ballroom, “I would like to 
invite all guests to take part in our next dance. Let us all join Their Royal Highnesses, 
the 6 Princes of Brisiana, in the next Waltz." 
William looked back to the two ladies who were still focused on the announcer. 
“I’m afraid our conversation will have to be delayed, forgive me.” He outstretched his 
hand towards Lady Laverdee and took breath, “Dearest Lady Laverdee, I know we only 
just met, but would you do me the honour of letting me lead you through the next 
waltz?” Taking her away would be the best way to question her a little more. . . For the 
sake of his duties, of course, he told himself.  
Her hand floated in front of her, going to touch his, but she recoiled. “I’m so 
sorry, I mustn’t.” he face was becoming a bright shade of red, almost as red as the 
Butterfly Peppers that the chefs were filling with their fondue. 
Lady Courtland pulled her by the shoulder and the two girls were faced away 
from him in a rapid-fire whispering discussion. They finally turned around and Lady 
Laverdee gave a small smile. He held his hand out once more and her resistance was 
short-lived before she nodded bashfully. He led her away, her hand resting gently in 
his. 

♣ 
“You gotta dance with him. He’s definitely the more cunning type and he could 
easily catch onto us, El. Lead him away, talk him out of and suspicion, and I’ll stick 
back here to look a bit more inconspicuous.” Quinn tried, her dark hair falling all over 
her shoulders. 
Ella considered this for a moment, “But what if this is a trap?” 
Quinn nodded, she had a point. She took a bite out of a crispy battered 
something. “Don’t worry I’ll get you outta there.” 
 Ella agreed, “Okay fine, only because we need to keep our cover and not because 
he’s really attractive.” she couldn't stop the smile from coming, “Oh, and don’t forget: 
keep the mask on at all times.” 
Quinn nodded again before Ella let William take her away. She watched the two 
make their way to the dancefloor and when they were far enough, she turned all of her 
attention back to the tables. 
Now it was just her and the food.  
What was she going to eat next? The steaming mushroom croquettes? The 
mystery-fish filets? The floating sugar balloons? How was she going to pick?! 
She decided to go with her gut instincts and danced around all the tables, 
getting dozens of different tastes and textures in her mouth; her senses in a frenzy. She 
went up and down and back and forth (peering over her shoulder every few bites to 
make sure Ella was keeping that Sir William off their heels). She turned back towards 
her next table to snatch a piece of a baklava-looking dish when she collided with a hard 
body.  
She regained her balance and backed up to see a velvety maroon jacket with 
silvery buttons. She looked up and saw a stern looking guard staring down at her from 
way above her head. She tried for a laugh and smiled, “Sorry, uh, sir. Just trying to,” she 
glanced around panicking, “get some of that ​delicious​. . . sorry what is this?” whispered 
to the chef serving it. 
“It’s peacock, miss.” 
“This delicious peacock!” Quinn chuckled again, trying to ease the awkwardness 
as she reached past the guard (whose face was still unimpressed), onto the table, and 
took a plate. She continued to smile as she side-stepped away, away, away and began 
shuffling in the other direction speedily, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening! Do 
try some of the food it’s great, really.” 
She scurried about and found an empty corner behind an archway and hid 
behind curtain, sinking in relief. She could feel her heart pounding against the corset as 
she tried to regain her breath. She gazed dreamily at her plate of peacock meat when a 
chill ran up her spine and along her arms. She heard a few faint footsteps inching up 
behind her. 
A hand landed on her shoulder and before she realized what was happening, the 
stranger grunted and was now pressed against the wall she was just on, her plate of 
peacock flat against their chest. There was a thick silence but all she could take in was 
the sound of her heartbeat thrumming in her ears, her heavy breath, and a light, floral 
scent coming from the stranger. 
Quinn realized what a mistake she made and silently scolded herself while her 
face was still too low for the stranger to see. ​So much for inconspicuous, this is gonna 
be trouble for sure​. 
She forced her eyes to lift and when they made it up to the stranger’s face, her 
heart in turn dropped. She instantly profiled him in her mind from the prep studies 
she’d done for the mission. 
Prince Victor Stormme: youngest of the 6 Princes of Brisiana. 
In this year that they’ve travelled back to, he’d be. . . 23 years old. 
Smarter than the other princes. 
Sciences and philosophical expertise, but not very artistic. 
Weaker than his brothers physiologically. 
Would later become General of Strategy and Royal Affairs Tactician. 
Why wasn’t he wearing a mask? At least that way she would have had the excuse 
to have mistaken his identity for someone else. 
Kinda cute. 
As she was busy recalling the stats about him (and some) she heard him murmur 
something about a . . . soothsayer? 
Superstitious.  
She looked at him and was met with an expression of shock that probably 
mirrored her own. “Oh my God!” She stumbled back, the plate dropping between 
them, “Y-your Highness, my deepest apologies.” She dipped into a low bow. ​Way to go, 
klutz! 
 She stared pathetically at the squished slice of peacock, its crisp skin all soggy 
now from being smushed against the sauce and the Prince.  
I’m gonna be executed. 
“No, no, I’m sorry for sneaking up on you, Miss.” The prince chuckled 
awkwardly and waved his hands in her line of sight to show no harm done. 
She cringed as she came back up and saw the oily stain all over his satin navy 
coat. She tried to rub it off frantically using the skirt of her dress, wondering why he 
was laughing and not threatening to throw her in the dungeon for the rest of eternity. 
“Your Highness, forgive me for overstepping, but aren’t you supposed to be out 
there dancing?” 
She couldn’t see him, but imagined his tired expression as he sighed, “I danced 
to the first song, that one’s mandatory. After that one, I managed to slip away. I happen 
to be a horrific dancer. Plus there were more interesting things going on elsewhere,” 
Yup. Not very artistic. 
“I suppose you finally found something you ​didn’t ​like on the tables?” He said as 
he reassured her that he was fine, gently pushing her hands off his abdomen.  
“I mean, I wouldn’t know. . . I didn’t get to try it—​wait​,” she looked up at him 
this time, “Were you watching me?” She began panicking for a whole different reason 
now. Was her cover blown? She searched his face for any sign of accusation or 
suspicion but only found boyish charm.  
Now it was his turn to become flustered. He laughed, trying to find the words, 
“Um, I was, uh, actually looking for my friend, Sir William. I saw that he had gone to 
the food tables but by the time I got there, he was gone. You happened. . . to be there.”  
At this, she gasped, remembering Ella.  
“Hey, who’s back there?” She heard a voice coming towards them.  
The curtain pulled back to reveal another guard who looked at Quinn 
suspiciously then at Victor surprisedly, “Your Highness,” he bowed, “Your jacket! What 
happened? You. . .” He grumbled as he turned back to her. 
“No, no, don’t worry, I’m fine.” Victor tried to interject. 
 She turned around and made a run for it. She darted out from behind the wall 
and rushed through the crowds of people trying to lose the two on her tail.  

♣ 
It was almost the end of the third dance when William noticed a frantic Lady 
Courtland quickly brushing past the dancers on the floor and receiving agitated looks. 
She ran up to Lady Laverdee, one hand balancing a handful of the croquembouche 
against her chest, and muttered, “Time to go, Cinderella. We’ve got company.” 
Lady Laverdee’s eyes widened in shock, frantically looking around, both of their 
masks still hiding the upper of their faces. She turned to him with apologetic eyes, “I’m 
so, so sorry, but I must leave. Thank you for the dance.” She curtsied as Lady Courtland 
pulled her by the arm.  
“Why are you holding all that food?” William heard her say to her friend. 
“For the road!” Lady Courtland answered hastily as they dashed for the door. 
Behind the crowd at the West Entrance, William noticed a few of his men who 
were on duty collecting with strange looks. He noticed Victor who was running 
towards him, pushing through the crowd just as Lady Courtland was, only much more 
elegantly and politely. “William, where’d she go? The girl you were dancing with?” 
William shook his head, “Victor? She ran off with her friend. Why, what 
happened?” Up close, he finally noticed the shiny orange liquid spilled on Victor’s 
jacket, “Did she attack you with the peacock?!” 
“No, no. I took her by surprise, it was my fault for underestimating her reflexes. 
Anyway, aside from eating a good portion of the food table,” Victor looked down on his 
satin jacket and chuckled as he remembered seeing the brown-haired girl shuffle away 
from a disapproving guard, “I think this might be what the soothsayer was talking 
about. I have a really strong feeling that she knows something, Will.” Victor’s eyes were 
bright, the scent of orange zest and cinnamon radiating off him. 
“She’s running away from you, why are you smiling?” William laughed. 
“I could say the same about you, couldn’t I?.” Victor smirked. The two nodded as 
they ran to their horses that were already waiting at the West Entrance.