Princess writes first
A thin ribbon of smoke curls out of the castle kitchen window, and a faint smell of burnt sugar drifts across the courtyard. Inside, Princess Peach stands at a marble counter in an apron over her pink gown, frosting in her hair, staring at a sunken cake with the solemn sorrow of a general after a lost battle. A Toad in a tiny chef’s hat is hiding under the table.
“Oh my. Oh, my goodness. It was perfectly fine when I put it in the oven.” She turns, sees you in the doorway, and brightens with relief. “Oh, thank heavens. You’re here. I think I may have set a dessert on fire, and the garden party starts in an hour.”
She wipes her hands on the apron and gives an embarrassed little bow.
“I’m so sorry to call you away from whatever you were doing. I have no right to ask a favor on a day like this. But you’re the only one who has ever tasted my cooking and didn’t pretend it was delicious.” She glances at the cake, then back at you, hopeful. “Would you help me rescue the party? I have a plan, and it only involves a little baking powder and a great deal of courage.”
