Haley Thistle
patreon
Hot Chocolate & Marshmallows: Part One (special preview)
🕑 Added 2020-05-07 21:00:03 +0000 UTCMy mother and I linger in that limbo of wanting to tell him the truth or keep it from him. We both know that if we speak the truth, that something feels lacking in the cake, he will say it’s because we’ve been trained in that sort of thing. Regular folk won’t notice! His mind is set, we can’t change anything. He will buck and argue until he gets his way.
Afterwards, my mother and I are alone, left to discuss the situation amongst ourselves. We both know this could spell trouble. For years, this trade with the Caldera had been hard earned and well kept. If this trade is to suddenly be cut off for a shoddy replacement, the Caldera have every right to get angry.
“He’s not thinking clearly, he doesn’t see the scope!” I am stomping back and forth along the floor. “The Caldera won’t take this lightly.”
“No, they won’t.” My mother had been fretting something like this for a long time. “He’s not thinking about the people, only the accounts.”
“He’s thinking about himself, Mother.” I turn on my heel to look at her. “You can admit it to me!”
My mother sighs heavily, brushing away the white curls from her face. “Your father is a businessman, darling. That is how business operates, selfishly.”
I grimace at the thought. I would never want to be like that when the business became mine. “Well, what are we going to do?”
“We’ll send word to the Caldera. I think it would be prudent for them to present their side of things to your father. They deserve a say in what happens to their business as well. I know they rely on us. Who knows what would happen if that was suddenly ripped away from them?” She goes to her desk and pulls out her quill and paper. “We’ll send the liaison out, and hopefully, they will come back with a reply for us.”
That had been weeks ago, and still we have heard no word back. Already my father is in the throes of planning a massive sale on all our chocolate products so we can rebrand for his new masterpiece. I am trying to hide my discomfort in this project from him but it is growing more and more difficult each day. His plans for the rebrand feel like a slap in the face to everything my ancestors had planned. I had to walk away from him and his ramblings.
As I am going down the corridor, I see from the window a strange sight. Along the road there is a procession led by massive black oxen. Golden flags wave in the air as a grand carriage pulls up before the house.
I run down to the entrance where my mother is already at the door. Rushing up behind her, I see the Caldera liaison approaching us. He bows before my mother and I, then gives us a strange, concerning look.
“The royal family of the Caldera is here to speak with you personally.”
“My goodness!” My mother exclaims in shock. “Because of my husband?”
The liaison nods. “They are upset that he is trying to create a weak substitution for their centuries old recipes. They take it as a dishonor and a threat against them.”
I step around them, walking out to the carriage. There is a guard standing beside the door who is twice my size. He is dressed warmly, almost all of his skin is covered, but from what I see, his skin is dark and beautiful. There are raised patterns all along his face as well as golden piercings. His long hair comes down in thick dreadlocks also decorated with gold twine, charms, and beads. He’s tall, but thick as well with giant arms and legs, and a rotund but solid middle.
He glares down at me with amber colored eyes and sneers.
I bow to him. “I am Mero, heir to this house. My father is the one you have come to see, but let me assure you, I am on your side in this matter.”
From inside the carriage, I hear a husky voice speak to the guard in a language I do not know. It is fluid and heated, almost like a passionate song. The guard steps aside, opening the door. From within, a tall figure steps out.
My eyes lock with hers and I am struck like a fool. I have never seen someone so beautiful before, nor someone who could probably crush me into a ball like paper.
“I am Princess Candela, and as far as I am concerned, your father and my mother are now enemies.”
I stare almost slack jawed at Candela. I’m so taken with her beauty, I’ve lost all thought. She’s much taller than I am, and with skin that seems to glow from within. Her long hair hangs in many braids with strands that are coated in gold or decorated with ribbons or charms. She, too, is dressed warm and covered from head to toe, but her face and neck are exposed, showing the raised marks along the sides of her face and jaw.
“That’s fine,” I wheeze, trying to regain control of my body. I clear my throat and cough. “You have every right to be angry at my father. That is why we contacted you to begin with so that you can present your argument.”
She scowls. “We don’t have an argument, we have a wrong that needs to be righted.” She steps off the carriage and comes close to me. “Your ancestor promised mine loyalty. Your father has betrayed not only us, but his own history.”
“I said I agree. You don’t need to explain things to me.”
From the carriage, someone calls to Candela. Candela turns, speaking back to them in their native tongue. She then places her eyes on me again.
“Mero, is it?” She sniffs.
“Yes,” my voice cracks.
“I hope these proceedings will work out. It would be a sad thing for someone so pretty to pay for their father’s mistake.” She goes back into the carriage and the guard steps before the door again.
“Pretty?” I feel flustered and warm all over as I head back towards my mother and the liaison.
My father arrives in a panic, he grabs hold of my shoulder so tight that I know there will be bruises later.
The Caldera refuse to come inside, instead they begin setting up tents right there. They start building fires so they can warm themselves, and the entire front yard becomes alight with flames. My father is fuming, not letting my mother and I go while he pitches his tantrum.
“You would not listen to reason, dear,” my mother speaks up. “This is the only way you would understand the effects your actions would carry. Hear them out and see through their eyes.”
“It is my business!” He fumes. “I get to decide what I do with it.”
“You do business with others as well, and you can’t decide what they do with theirs. This is an insult to them, dear, don’t you see that?” My mother should own this company, not my father, I have always known that.
I’m sent away as she tries to calm him down. I go into my room, shutting the doors and undoing the buttons of my shirt. As I go to strip everything off, I see someone is sitting before my fireplace. I quickly clutch my collar around my throat.
“Who goes there?”
Candela looks over the back of the chair at me. “I let myself in, I hope you don’t mind.” She nods over the window then stands up. She’s still wearing her coat, but it hangs open, showing off the white dress she’s wearing. The raised marks go down her chest and legs, and she wears a gold bangle around her neck.
I feel breathless and dizzy being alone with her. “What are you doing here?”
“Normally I would be fighting you right now and bringing you to the ground, crying.” She tosses her braids off her shoulder. “But I find myself drawn to you for another reason other than pummeling your face.”
