(Sequel to Sleeping Arrangements. For the gist of that story, it is about Della, a princess on the run because her kingdom was attacked. She went to his carriage to sleep in the night and met Cade who was trying to watch out for his family’s bakery. She chooses not to tell him she is a princess. He defends said bakery with his archery skills. And now you’re caught up!)

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The sun peeks through the curtains of the carriage. It is enough to rouse Della from her slumber.

She shifts, her joints aching, and accidentally kicks something that groans at the contact. The events of last night floods back to her. She unintentionally broke into a man’s carriage with him in it, and then proceeded to throw all the etiquette lessons out the window.

That man, Cade Clark, let her stay and she also got to witness his archery skills. And that brings her to now.

Cade rubs his thigh where she had inadvertently hit him.

In the light, she can see him better. His chestnut hair flopped in his face, almost to his eyes. He has a shadow of facial hair, closely shaven to his face.

When he glances at her, his eyes are bright. Are they blue? Or green? Della decides it’s a mix of the two. A really pretty combination.

“So you want a bite to eat?” His voice rumbles, possibly lower from just waking up. It takes her aback with the casual vernacular. Being surrounded by Royal tutors all her life, it is peculiar for her.

“Yes. That would be lovely, if it is not too much of an inconvenience for you or your family,” she responds, recalling how he protected his family’s bakery last night.

He laughs, not a mean-spirited one, a joyous sound. “Not at all. My Ma loves meeting new people.” The title of ‘Ma’ surprises her. Not many people she knew called their mother ‘Ma’, but then again, she grew up with hearing her mother called Queen Nerva.

Guiding her into the bakery, Della and Cade are welcomed with the literal open arms of his parents. “Cade! Did you sleep in the carriage last night?” Mrs. Clark exclaims, exuding the warmth only a mother could give off. It makes Della feel homesick, missing her own mother.

“Yep. A couple thugs tried to break in again,” he explains, not regretful at all, even under his mother’s glare.

The conversation is so comfortable that Della feels as though she is intruding. It makes her want to rock from one foot to another but she stands still with her hands folded in front of her, ever the diplomat.

“Who is this lovely lady?” Mr. Clark ask, noticing her. Mrs. Clark’s eyes light up at her form. She practically vibrates from excitement.

“I’m Della,” she introduces herself, though she pauses after her name, not knowing what information to share. Certainly, not her royal moniker.

Cade must have noticed her hesitation and fills in some gaps. “She was just passing by, looking for something to eat, and I thought we would give her a Clark special.”

His mother claps her hands very enthusiastically, actually startling Della with the speed in which she does it. “Of course! Della dear, what kind of sweets do you like?”

Before she can provide an answer, Mrs. Clark is already producing a tray and arranging pastries on it.

“Anything is quite okay, Mrs. Clark. I am grateful for your hospitality,” Della expresses. She thought she was being a considerate guest, but all the Clarks laugh.

It is a chorus of similar cackles. Cade has this bright smile on his face, almost reaching the shine of his mother’s eyes. Even though she is a bit baffled ok why they are reacting like this, she can’t help but grin.

“Oh, no need for such formality, hon. Everyone calls me Mama Clark,” Mrs. Cla—Mama Clark reveals.

“You come close from the castle, don’t you?” Mr. Clark, who has not given her another name to call him by, comments. Looking down at her son clothes, she thought the servant’s outfit would be enough for her to blend in. When comparing hers to theirs, there is still an evident contrast in quality. She feels her cheeks blush, coloring her face in what she hopes is not perceptible.

“I do. Worked in the castle.” It’s a technicality. She doesn’t like concealing her identity, but there is this weight lifted from her shoulders when interacting with people not knowing her status. Extrication from her normal life.

Ordinarily, Della is painstakingly attentive to her wording. With the high stress of the dilemma at hand, she slipped. “Worked?” Cade notes. If she could discreetly punch herself, she would.

With them opening their doors to her, there is a bit of an innate obligation to provide them with some intel. Not all but enough to give them context. “I am to get a message to Tarvin.”

“Is this about the attack on Allaver. That really is a horrible. What kind of person launches an ambush like that?” Mr. Clark comments. Della lets out a breath in relief. Without leaving the walls of her home for most of her life, she and her siblings were isolated from their kingdom. The perception of the royal family is something she is largely unaware of.

All she does is nod to confirm his inquiry.

Before they can question further, a customer comes through the door, interrupting their conversation. It eases her to be done with it for now.

As Cade’s parents welcome the person, he guides her to the back, behind the counter and then through a door, completely obscured from the front of the bakery.

The smell is what gains her attention. The rich, sweet smell of baked goods. She longs for the quiet mornings with her mom in the kitchen, their cook having prepared a sweet treat.

Cade must have taken the tray that his mom began putting pastries on for her because he produces it and holds it out for her.

There’s a pastel cupcake, a fancy looking tart, croissants, and other mini desserts. It looks professionally done. Her mouth waters.

She gingerly chooses the cupcake first and attempts a dainty bite. Her mom always stressed that you must act as though you are being watched. Because as a princess, she is constantly monitored. But the moment the scrumptious chocolate reaches her taste buds, she cannot stop herself from shoveling more in.

“This is delightful!” Della couldn’t help but gush about the pastries. And she thought the cooks back at the castle were good. These had a certain warmth to them. A warmth that spread from her mouth to her whole body. Cade laughs. “I’m glad you find them good. Ma and Pa make all these by hand. It’s why it is important that our store’s safe. It’s expensive.”

“I can see why your bakery is so successful,” she compliments, in between bites of the delectable treats, moving onto the tart that had shiny fruit arranged like a flower on top.

With her eyes and mind occupied with the food, she doesn’t witness Cade’s mouth open and then close, deciding against what he was about to say.

“So you were tasked with getting a message to Tarvin?” He finally gets out.

Taking a last bite of the tart, she glances up at him. She should choose her words carefully. “Yes. The attack means the royal family needs all of its allies.”

Now he looks nervous, eyes refusing to meet hers, his hands fiddling with a cookie, breaking off small pieces. “What if I tag along?”

He sounds hopeful?

“Why? Because I’ll need help?” Why else would he join a mystery journey? Does he have a martyr complex or something? Like she is some damsel in distress.

“No. I have no doubt you could make it there by yourself. It’s just maybe some company would help the time pass faster.” With his big eyes and charming smile, he resembled an eager puppy. It would be difficult to say no to that.

She definitely should decline the offer. Who knows what troubles are ahead of her. Being a princess of a kingdom that was attacked, people could be after her. He is at a disadvantage since he is not aware of all the information. “You don’t know what you’re getting into,” she says truthfully.

“I think I do.” He speaks with such conviction, not shying away from looking her directly in the eyes. Della holds their intense eye contact. She can’t tell if he knows about her title or not. Those eyes. As if in a trance, she finds herself agreeing. “Ok. But if you lag behind, I’m leaving you.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I highly doubt that. You are too kind of a person.”

Della wonders why he thinks he knows so much about her. They only met last night. If he assumes about her character, what else can he gather? “You overestimate my virtue.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Della has to admit that having someone with her would be comforting. Having to separate with her siblings left her quite lonely. It also helped that he had had combat training or at least a high degree in archery. She didn’t need him, but maybe she wanted him there.

For his archery skills! Nothing else!

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(Do you ever imagine certain people or actors when you write? Sometimes I do to help me imagine how I want my characters to look like. Just curious. Hope you are having a good day!)