Chapter 14

It wasn't long before my papa came back from his trip to the market. As he had some of the bags of ingredients floating around him as he shuffled into the kitchen, the rest was cradled safely in the hold of my brothers. They shuffled in behind our papa, their tanned skin covered in bruises and scratches and their clothes covered in dirt.

“You can put those bags on the counter.” Papa told them. “I’ll have some snacks prepared for you two when you're done with your shower.” 

They lugged the bags over to the counter just as our papa ordered. 

“I would kill for a hot bubble bath right now.” Antonio whined.

“The last time you took a bath when you were tired, you almost drowned.” Joaquin rebutted. “You’ll take a shower.”

“You're no fun.”

“Our fathers are stressed enough,” Joaquin scowled, “They don’t need to worry about you dying on top of dealing with whatever drama is going on at the castle.” 

“But-” Joaquin ignored his attempt to protest as he gently began to shove our brother out of the kitchen. “Stop it!”

“Move.” Joaquin demanded, “I want a shower.”

“There's no need to get physical!” Antonio huffed, “I'm already bruised! You're beating a broken man, Antonio!”

“I wouldn't call you a man.”

“Hey!”

I watched as my brothers filtered out the kitchen. Antonio's voice was the loudest as he continued to shout at Joaquin. 

Waiting until I couldn't hear them anymore, I turned my attention to my papa. “I don’t mind making Antonio and Joaquin snacks, papa.”

“That would be wonderful, hun.”

As papa easily worked his magic to begin putting away the food he’s bought, with the help of dad, I made my way towards the fridge. I’ve already had an idea of what I wanted to make. Joaquin and Antonio have mentioned that they've both been craving pigs-in-a-blanket.

I'm not sure why specifically that.

Though I did agree that pigs-in-a-blanket are amazing, it was an odd request to have.

As I plucked the ingredients that I needed for the mini hotdogs, turning around with my arms full, I noticed how my dad was poking through the many bags Papa bought back with him. 

Dad pulled out a bottle of soy sauce. He eyed it before turning towards papa.

Papa huffed as he re-tied his apron. “What?”

“I thought you were going to the market for duck.” Dad stated.

“I got the duck.” Papa answered. Curling a brightened finger, the raw duck rose into the air. “I may have gathered a few other things while I was there. I just want to be stocked up on everything so the prince won’t have to worry about food. I’m going to have to feed four wolves now.”

“Speaking of the prince,” Dad began. He placed a new gallon of milk in the fridge, turning back around to face papa again. “The prince is here.”

“Oh.” Papa shrugged, grabbing a few bottles of seasonings for the duck. He twisted the cap open, poised over the raw meat as he continued, “That’s good. I hope he's…...” Papa blinked. It took a minute for the words to fully process with him as he slowly turned to face Dad. He blinks again, “...what?”

“The prince-” Dad began.

Papa set the pepper down, waving off whatever dad was going to say. “When?!”

“When you left for the market.”

“Are you serious?!” Papa huffed, “The one time I forget something-”

Dad snorted.

Papa continued, “-you just had to be punctual-”

“We didn’t know when the prince would be here.”

“-and I missed it!” He finished, throwing his hands in the air. A bit of pepper flew from the open bottle, sprinkling over Papa’s hair.

Dad snorted louder as Papa sneezed.

Times like this made me wish that I fully mastered my magic abilities. I could barely make one cup float, let alone manage to make multiple things move. Though I loved to help my papa with cooking, doing things like this, I found it to be extremely tedious.

I grumbled to myself, wrapping another sliver of buttery, crescent rolls onto the mini wieners.

“Where is he?” Papa asks.

“He’s up in his room.” Dad answered. “And you're not doing whatever you're thinking.”

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking.”

“You want to go upstairs and introduce yourself.”

“So maybe you do.” Papa grumbled. He turned around “I just don't want him to think that I’m rude. He is the prince of our kingdom. It's only proper that I introduce myself.”

“You can do that when he comes down for dinner.” Dad explained, “I think it's best if we let him rest. He did just leave his home.”    

Dashing each buttery roll with a pinch of salt, I finally finished wrapping the rolls around the wieners. Carefully eyeing each blanket to make sure they were all absolutely perfect, fixing a few since they weren’t up to my standards, I finally decided I was satisfied with everything. 

I turned my attention to my dad, “Can you turn on the oven for me? I need the temperature to be at 375.”