CHAPTER 12 Have You Considered Running Off to Be a Baker?

CHAPTER 12

Have You Considered Running Off to Be a Baker?

Brownie

Knolith followed Brownie through the mountain pass. She knew the lizardkin could’ve taken himself there much quicker than following her relaxed walk, and wondered why he bothered.

He interrupted her thoughts with a rude, “So you are the new queen’s best friend, hm?”

“ Of course, ” Bronwynn stressed. She knew her worth.

He considered that.

He could doubt her all he wanted, she thought, but what she’d said was true.

In fact, she’d been friends with Henrietta before she knew the girl was a princess, when they were both still naive children.

Many Years Ago

“That was wonderful .”

Bronwynn the Bard looked up from playing her lyre harp at the town fountain. A little girl wearing maid clothes stood there, hands clasped together and eyes bright.

“Thank you. I’m Bronwynn.” The compliment made Bronwynn blush. She loved playing, and every happy face was a boost to her bardic heart.

“I’m Hen-Henrietta,” the girl stuttered.

She had the fluffiest brown hair and softest brown eyes—hard to distinguish from the crowd. Her hands were marked with callouses from weapon use, and her posture was perfect. Bronwynn assumed she was more than just a maid; perhaps a noble lady’s guard or spy ?

Bronwynn would know; she’d probably met more spies than any other twelve-year-old in Drendil.

The girl looked younger than ten, but since Bronwynn was a half giantess who eclipsed even some human adults … well, it was hard to tell.

“Like the princess? Nice.” Bronwynn nodded, shoving a short curly lock behind her ear. Her hair was dark brown with reddish tips that always magically colored themselves every morning no matter if she cut off the ends or not. “Do you have any requests?”

The maid’s smile faltered. “I don’t get to listen to a lot of music … What do you like?”

“If you have the time, I can play you all of the most popular songs right now!” This was her chance to shine, and Bronwynn jumped to her feet in excitement, placing her foot on the fountain and strumming her instrument with a strong opening chord.

Then Bronwynn paused, realizing she might have let her enthusiasm for performing get the better of her. Most of the people who stopped here didn’t have the time to listen to more than one song. And everyone got nervous when they witnessed the full height and bulk of the bard as she loomed over them.

Her momentary anxiety washed away as the maid beamed up at her. “That would be great! I have a few hours before I need to find my way back.”

The two enjoyed an afternoon of music, and that was the start of a very important friendship—for both of them.

Especially a few months later …

“Brownie!”

The nickname had the bard turning in the streets and smiling at the adorable maid. “Henrietta! Well, aren’t you free a lot this month?”

“My mom caught me writing down a recipe.” The maid sighed and took the bard’s arm. They continued walking down the street. “She doesn’t want me baking.”

Brownie had no idea why getting in trouble left Henrietta free for the day, but she assumed the young maid was sent home and just took her sweet time getting there. Whenever Brownie saw her friend a lot, it was usually followed by the maid being absent for a long month or two. For “training.” This happened especially when Henrietta’s mother was particularly upset.

As such, Brownie appreciated the time they did get to spend together.

“Have you considered just running off to be a baker?” Brownie half joked. Apprenticeships were important, but if she were told to give up being a bard, Bronwynn would do just that: run away, get famous, and then come back in triumph!

Henrietta sighed. “I don’t know any bakers. Who would bother teaching a pr— palace maid to bake? ”

“But you’re already familiar with the process?” Brownie asked, suddenly guiding Henrietta in a specific direction in the castle town market.

Henrietta nodded. “I’ve always wanted to know how the castle pastry chef makes all of those intricate desserts … so I’ve been sneaking into the kitchens to watch. I baked my first batch of cookies at six!”

“Did the castle chef like them?” Brownie asked, weaving them through a short alley and then up another street in the market.

The maid tensed. Looking down, she said sadly, “He got fired for letting me try.”

“What?!” Brownie couldn’t believe that someone with a prestigious job like castle pastry chef could be fired so easily. “Why?”

“My mother is a very exacting woman …”

Brownie had pieced a lot together in the time they’d been friends, and Henrietta’s mother sounded both awful and powerful. Maybe even one of the queen’s own personal maids. It would explain the strict tasks and the knife wounds on her friend’s hands. Or that one time Henrietta had been hiding a limp.

Brownie’s Perception wouldn’t have missed that , and the bard wondered again what Henrietta’s actual job was.

“Then we just won’t tell her,” the bard announced as they arrived at their destination.

Henrietta looked up at her, confused. “Tell her what?”

Brownie gave the girl a huge smile before waving her hand at a cute little bakery bustling with activity. “That you’re helping out at Mira’s Bakery.”

“Wait, what?!” Henrietta stopped dead in the street, and there was a moment, a single small moment, where even Brownie’s Strength couldn’t pull the girl. Then the maid quickly relaxed as if she hadn’t just demonstrated Strength over fifteen.

Brownie ignored the revealing moment and continued. “I know a great baker who’d love a part-time assistant to help her and her husband out. Now, let me introduce you!”

Henrietta let Brownie drag her behind the shop to the back door. As the maid stood up straight and professed her desire to bake with a noble finesse, Brownie rubbed her arm. The feeling of overwhelming solid Strength lingered in her mind.

More than just a regular palace maid indeed.

And where Brownie had helped her, Henrietta had returned the favor a few years later.

“I got a real gig!” Brownie burst in through the back door of Mira’s Bakery, where she knew Henrietta would be working.

Henrietta laughed; her arms covered in flour as she calmly continued kneading a large batch of sourdough. “You’ve had a bunch of gigs. Didn’t Connor start hiring you to play at the tavern since you came of age last year? ”

“Not like that!” the bard exclaimed. “I’ll be playing for a noble !”

“Is the new gig better paying, then?” the maid asked, lifting a hundred-pound bag of flour like it was a cup of tea and pouring it into a giant bowl.

“Yes!” Brownie pretended not to notice—just as Baker Mira and Journeyman Jeff, the had decided not to notice—and replied, “They’re offering me a whole silver to play at the Tisbury estate this weekend! They’re having a ladies tea party, and someone recommended me!”

“That’s wonderful.” Henrietta smiled, though she didn’t meet Brownie’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Bronwynn said sincerely. “I know you must have mentioned me to someone at the palace.”

Henrietta scratched her neck, embarrassed. She got a bit of dough on her collar but didn’t seem to notice. “I’m happy to talk about you. I’m proud to have such an amazing bard as a friend. Besides, you got me this job; it’s the least I could do to put in a good word.”

“When are you finished?”

“She’s been done for twenty minutes.” Jeff, a burly black-haired human with quiet eyes and a calm temper stuck his head in the back. “So you can stop gossiping in my bakery and go get some fresh air.”

“Perfect! Let’s go, Henrietta. I want you to hear my song set.”

The maid took off her apron and ran to join Bronwynn at the door. The bard reached out and picked the dough off her friend’s collar. It was important to hide any and all evidence, Brownie knew, or she might not see her friend for a long time.

She played and Henrietta listened until it was time to go perform her heart out for a bunch of nobles.

This was more than just finding part-time work in a bakery. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and she wouldn’t have gotten it without the tiny maid she’d befriended.

And one day, Brownie swore, she’d repay the favor.