A servant of the Queen always rose before her mistress, and Mary Ann, she woke up at dawn to begin her day. She began to make the dough and prepared the freshest batch of roseberries, the oven was piping hot as she added an extra log of oakenwood. If there was any secret ingredient that she would have professed, it would be using that specific kind of tree as tinder.
It added a woody aroma to the usually sweet and overbearing scent of the berries.
The young woman made sure not to touch her hair or her face, even while measuring each ingredient carefully in their individual cups. Sugar in one cup, a dollop or two of butter—actually a lot of butter from the nicest cows. If the animals were happy, their produce were happy. Some pinch of salt or so. A hefty amount of milk.
She narrowed her eyes for a moment at the contents of the jug.
"Where's all the milk? Did the milk boy forget to come here?" A frown curled on her lips.
