Someone yawned. Someone else cursed under their breath. A pot lid clattered, and that was the beginning of it. “Who moved the honey?” “I didn’t touch it. Check the lower shelf, no, the other lower…. " “That’s salt, you fool!” A maid hurried past with a bowl of eggs cradled against her chest. She paused only when another servant blocked her path, both of them shifting left, then right, then left again in a silent argument of movement. “Just go,” the other muttered. “I would if you would choose a side.” They slipped past each other at last. This was the daily bustle of the royal kitchen every blessed morning. Before dawn had fully broken, the servants were already up, trying within their reach to get breakfast ready in time. “Make way…make way!” The cry cut through the room as a line of maids hurried in, arms laden with platters of polished silver flashing in the firelight, heaped with buttered loaves, honey-glazed meats, and fruits. Their steps were quick and feasible, movin
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