Margarette Macaron Novels & Stories

The experience went rather smoothly, and the pieces from the new collection suited Margaret’s taste perfectly. She sat leisurely sipping tea while casually watching the models present the collection, then purchased a spaghetti-strap dress embroidered with delicate handcrafted details, an elegant short-sleeved blue dress, and a blouse with floral embroidery decorating the collar. Carrying her shopping bags happily, Margaret planned to head to a café near the mall to enjoy some coffee while waiting for her private driver to arrive. As she sat comfortably inside the café, casually admiring the view outside, her eyes suddenly narrowed when she caught sight of a figure passing by.

It gave my hands something to do while my mind tried to process Leo’s casual intimacy. Margaret moved through the kitchen like it was second nature, humming as she opened cupboards and retrieved bowls with confident ease. It was a side of her I hadn't fully seen before—not the elegant matriarch from photos or the cool observer at Leo’s parties, but a woman in her element. Relaxed. Even maternal. She handed Leo a tray of vegetables. “Quarter those, will you?” Leo raised a brow. “I have an assistant for that now.” “Not here, you don’t,” Margaret said, smacking the cutting board with the flat of her knife. “And if you give my Celeste too many orders, I’ll toss this entire roast and serve you di

It was the day they'd attend the charity ball. Margarette was being beautified by the make-up artists. She wore a mermaid backless emerald gown with a slit on one of her hips. Her hair was tied up into a high ponytail with a real diamond clip on the root. Her small face was being drawn with perfection. After putting her final touch, which was her scarlet lipstick, Margarette now looks like a goddess. It wasn't an overstatement. In fact, it was literal. One look of her and she'll definitely take your breath away.

We weren’t friends, but we weren’t enemies either. Margaret was wearing a chartreuse gown embroidered with lily pads. The Beta’s wife’s name is Lily. Margaret has striking features. Her skin is the color of a summer elk. Her hair falling around her face in large chestnut brown ringlets. She has almond shaped chocolate brown eyes. “All these girls talking like they never heard the Epic of Cordelia.” Margaret quietly and snarkily said. “Right? A slave mating to the Kingdom of the Moon is a death sentence.” I responded dryly.

Margaret plainly replied as they both kept staring at Jasmine. Once everything was ready Margaret walked ahead and asked serving staff under her to carry all containers towards army troop in meantime she herself started filling a separate plates and bowl which were entirely made of gold, Jasmine was keenly watching her every action since she was the only one who was speaking to Margate apart from remaining head chefs and their staff “Is this for King Sargon?” Jasmine questioned Margaret as she started placing food filled bowls and plates on serving tray “You guessed it right, it is for our king” Margaret said and immediately called a young blond haired women to carry serving tray to king Sar

"I'm still... getting adjusted." "Of course." Margaret stepped into the room, and I noticed she was carrying a small tray with coffee and pastries. "I prepared your usual breakfast. Earl Grey tea with honey, croissants from that bakery in Tribeca you love, fresh berries." Pamela's breakfast. Not mine. "Actually," I said carefully, "could I have coffee instead? Just black coffee?" Margaret's eyebrows rose slightly. "Coffee? But you always say it's too bitter, that you prefer—”

She knew the number off by heart. "Jasper Neyve" "Oh!" said a shocked Margaret, "oh your grace, hey never imagined you would answer the phone," Jasper frowned. Who the hell was this? "Who's calling, please?" "Oh, I do beg your pardon, your grace. It's Margaret Brocklebank from Brocklebank's bakers and cafaay." "Ah, good morning Mrs Brocklebank. How can I help you?"

I trail the pink ribbon behind me as I walk down the hallway. Tiger bounces around behind me, trying to pounce on it, and it makes me laugh. I scoop him up when I get to the stairs and carry him down before putting him back on his feet to chase the ribbon again. “I figured you’d show up.” Margaret smiles as she uses the spatula to lift the cookies off the tray and put them on the cooling rack. I go for one, and she warns me like a mother hen, “Careful.”

She was certain it would taste be better than any of the best wines she had. She had ordered Halton to bring her cherished wines from the US, but that worthless donkey refused. Warning her it was injurious to her health. Like he cares. Pfft, what a joke! "Good morning, young miss," Margretta greeted with a pleasant smile on her face. "Good Morning Aunt Margretta," she greeted back. Alexandra smile at her like an innocent child which made Margretta's heart skip a beat. "What's for breakfast?" "These are all your favorite young miss. A splendid French breakfast!" Margaretta proudly stood aside from the breakfast she had cooked especially for her, hoping this would back Alexandra's appetite.

The next morning, Margret wasted no time, arriving with several test kits. She followed Valery into her bedroom, placing them carefully on the table. “Go on,” Margret said firmly. Valery sighed but obeyed. Minutes later, she returned, setting the samples in a tray. “Now we wait.” “How about breakfast? I bought those pastries you love. Do you mind making some chocolate tea? You need to distract yourself for a while,” Margret said. “Sure.” Valery managed a smile, retreating to the kitchen.