The café was quiet. Too quiet.
Lavinia stood at the stovetop, staring into the simmering pot of cream and tomatoes, though her hands moved with practiced ease—stirring, seasoning, tasting. But her thoughts had slipped far away, deeper than spices or sauces could reach.
The scent of peppered basil and roasted garlic curled in the air.
But all she could smell was blood.
Flashback – The Gilded Cell
It was her fourteenth birthday.
She remembered the celebration. The golden ballroom dripping in lilac blossoms, the orchestra playing her waltz, and the cold chill of her father's voice when she'd asked to study alchemy instead of etiquette.
"A daughter of the Deveraux line does not dabble in peasant potions." Her father had said, voice low but lethal.
"I want to understand healing. The people—"
"The people will never matter more than your crown."
She still remembered the sting of the signet ring across her cheek.
The way her brother, Crown Prince Cedric, had chuckled—slow, cruel.
He had leaned close that night, lips brushing her ear.
"Run if you want." He'd said. "But you'll never outrun your blood."
**
Back in the café, the spoon slipped from Lavinia's hand.
It clattered to the floor.
She didn't bend to pick it up. She just stared. Breathing shallow. Her chest was tight, hands trembling. The scent of the ballroom—sugar and iron—still lingered in her mind.
A sob escaped her throat, unbidden. And then another.
She didn't hear Elias enter. But his footsteps were always quiet. Gentle.
He paused at the door to the kitchen, watching her silently.
"Lavinia…" he said softly, "what's wrong?"
She shook her head, backing toward the corner.
"I-I can't…" She choked. "It's stupid. I shouldn't even…"
"You're remembering." He responded, eyes filled with compassion. "You don't have to explain."
His voice was warm cinnamon—no pressure, just presence. He stepped toward her slowly, holding out a cloth. She took it with shaking hands and wiped her face.
"I was never free there…" She whispered. "Not really. They dressed me up like a doll, hit me when I misstepped, called it discipline. My brother once locked me in the greenhouse overnight for speaking out. He told the servants it was punishment for wilting like a flower."
Elias's jaw tensed. "Bastard."
Lavinia gave a broken laugh.
"I always wanted to run…" She murmured. "But I didn't know where. Until I smelled cinnamon bread in a tiny village bakery. That's when I knew. I didn't want a throne. I wanted that. The smell of real life."
Elias closed the space between them.
"I think you've made something better than a Kingdom." He spoke softly, brushing her hair from her face. "You built warmth from ruin. You feed people who need it. And you make magic sweeter than any crown."
She leaned into him, catching her breath.
"Will it ever stop hurting?"
"No." He indicated. "But I'll help you carry it."
He didn't kiss her. Not again… just yet. But his hand found hers and held it like a vow.
She gave him a shaky smile and turned back to the pot.
"I think this pasta needs more chili."
He smiled. "Let's make it blaze, then."
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Lavinia's Spicy Tomato Cream Pasta - A dish for breaking chains, heating up hearts, and finding peace in a bowl.
Ingredients:
- 250g penne or rigatoni pasta
- 1 tbsp olive oil
- 3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
- 1/2 tsp red chili flakes (or to taste)
- 1 small red onion, diced
- 1 can (400g) crushed tomatoes
- 1 tbsp tomato paste
- 1/2 tsp sugar
- 1/3 cup heavy cream
- Salt and pepper to taste
- 1/4 cup grated parmesan
- Optional: fresh basil, chili oil drizzle, a handful of sautéed mushrooms or pancetta
Instructions:
Cook pasta in salted water until al dente. Reserve 1/4 cup pasta water. In a pan, heat olive oil and sauté garlic and red onion until softened. Add chili flakes and stir for 30 seconds, releasing the heat. Add tomato paste and crushed tomatoes. Simmer 8–10 minutes until thickened. Stir in cream, sugar, and parmesan. Season with salt and pepper. Add cooked pasta and a splash of reserved pasta water to coat. Stir well.
Serve hot with basil leaves and a drizzle of chili oil for extra spice.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
They ate together at the counter, elbows brushing, forks clinking.
And when Lavinia smiled again—soft, real, it wasn't because the pain had vanished.
It was because she had chosen a life that let her feel everything—and still stand.
Sir Corwin arrived from the forest after some wood-chopping, and joined the two.
Laughter.
Warmth.
Contentment.
Lavinia never asked for more.
ANOTHER DAY
The rain from last night had finally stopped.
Morning sunlight poured through the kitchen windows in pale shafts, dappling the wooden floor in liquid gold. Lavinia sat at the far corner table of the café, her fingers absentmindedly smoothing a parchment recipe sheet.
Across from her sat Sir Corwin Thorne, newly assigned guardian by his own stubborn will and the echo of chivalry in his blood.
He was polishing his gauntlets when he spoke.
"Your hands…" He murmured. "They tremble sometimes. Not from magic, nor weakness. But something deeper."
She stilled.
"You watch the door every time a courier arrives," he continued, gently, "like someone who ran and knows what it means to be chased."
A long silence followed.
Then Lavinia folded the parchment, and looked up. Her eyes—usually cool and bright—seemed distant today, as if the past hung like smoke over her irises.
"I suppose you deserve the truth." She retorted softly. "If you're going to stand at my side, sword in hand."
He waited, respectful.
She breathed out.
"My father, King Edward, is not just unpleasant in his politics. Though you may have thought he was so unbelievably regal. Behind those velvet drapes and jeweled feasts—he's a tyrant. Cold. Violent. He beat my Mother until she broke. No one knew that. He wouldn't let anyone that knows about it live for another day. Except for me. Because I were to be an object for him to sell on my coming-of-age day. But when I started showing signs of magical affinity, he did the same to me."
Corwin's expression didn't change—but his fists clenched beneath the table.
"My brother, the Crown Prince, was worse." She added, voice tighter. "He hides behind smiles and pretty words. But he delights in power. Once, when I healed a wounded stable boy in secret, he staged a hunting accident to make the boy disappear. Told me that mercy is weakness, and weakness deserves punishment."
There was a long halt.
"I tried to be good." She whispered. "I tried to play their game. But I couldn't. I was going to suffocate in silk and silence."
Corwin's voice was hoarse. "And so you ran."
"Yes. I left behind the name Princess Lavinia Kathryn Deveraux. I took nothing but my Mother's recipe book, her sliver-spoons, her jewels, and a bag of herbs. And I never looked back."
She paused. Her gaze softened a little.
"Though… I should say this: Not all my blood is poison. My cousin Dorian is cold. Sharp. He plays the cruel noble when he must. But he listens. He doesn't mock the needs of commoners. He once diverted palace funds to rebuild a ruined village in the north without fanfare. He... sees things. I think, deep down, he mourns what our family became… I can assure you that his reign shall be judicious, Sir Corwin. Hazeldale isn't in peril, it will prosper."
Lavinia took a deep breath before she continued. "The Whisper… I understood he meant well. Dorian didn't send him to hurt me. But I admit, I was afraid that day. Afraid to go back… afraid that the past would repeats on me."
Corwin sat in silence, jaw clenched, breath steadying.
And then he rose to his feet.
His palm came to his chest in a knight's vow.
"I swear to you, Princess Lavinia. Not as your subject, nor as a servant of the crown—but as a man who believes in justice: I will protect you. Your peace. Your café. Your future. YOU."
He lowered his head, his voice a solemn vow.
"Even if the Kingdom itself comes for you."
Her eyes brimmed—but she didn't let the tears fall. Instead, she gave a small, radiant smile.
"Then I suppose I better feed my Knight." She stood, moving to the kitchen. "Would you like to try something I haven't made in years?"
"If it's yours," Corwin said, "then yes."
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Lavinia's Red Velvet Cupcakes - A bite of comfort, colour, and the bittersweet taste of royal memories sweetened with cream cheese.
Ingredients:
- 1¼ cups all-purpose flour
- 1 tbsp cocoa powder
- ½ tsp baking soda
- ½ tsp salt
- ½ cup unsalted butter, softened
- ¾ cup granulated sugar
- 1 large egg
- 1 tbsp red food coloring
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- ½ cup buttermilk
- ½ tsp vinegar
Cream Cheese Frosting:
- ½ cup butter, softened
- 8 oz cream cheese, softened
- 2 cups powdered sugar
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 175°C (350°F). Line a cupcake tray with paper liners. In a bowl, sift together flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt. Cream butter and sugar until fluffy. Beat in the egg, red food colouring, and vanilla. Add the flour mixture in batches, alternating with buttermilk. Stir in vinegar at the end. Divide batter evenly into cups. Bake for 18–20 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. For frosting: Beat butter and cream cheese until smooth. Add powdered sugar gradually. Stir in vanilla. Once cupcakes cool, pipe the frosting generously on top.
Optional twist: Add a hidden spoon of strawberry jam in the center of the cupcake for a "bleeding heart" version Lavinia makes on bitter anniversaries.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Later, as Corwin took his first bite and Lavinia laughed at his stunned expression, something unspoken passed between them.
A new vow. A different kind of magic.
One born not from power—but from shared truth, and a cupcake baked with a healing heart.