The Duchess and The Cake

Once upon a time,

In a land and a time not so far away,

Or perhaps in many lands, both near and far,

There lived a woman who possessed all of the things she could ever need, and every treasure she ever wanted.

She was rich beyond measure. Adorned in gold embroidered skirts, and diamond encrusted shoes, and enfolded in the finest satins, silks and furs. Her garments clung perfectly to all of the right places and twirled and swirled delicately around her as if they were made of living liquid. She travelled in ornate carriages of crystal and ebony, pulled by silver-white horses who seemed to almost float above the cobblestone as they effortlessly transported her from shop to shop to shop…

She spent much of her time in town flitting from one shop to the next, most often frequenting those popularized by high society- dressmakers, haberdasheries, cobblers and quaint little bakeshops.

One day our luxurious friend decided to stop in at her favorite little bakery in town. To the naked eye (or nose) there was nothing special about this sweet little shop. There were many other bakeries in this town and those surrounding that it was hard to know exactly why she of all people found this place so worthy of her time. The answer was in the cake.

She visited this particular bakery often enough that her presence should not have been especially notable (although her presence is always something to note), but on this day there was much to notice.

You see, our friend, being used to living in the lap of luxury, did not often take others into account. She was the center of her own universe and expected that most others felt the same (about her). It was often that the seas of people would part for her all on their own- as she must have been very intimidating in all of her grandeur. But when the sea didn’t part, she would force it to.

As our Lady strolled into the cozy, warm, fragrant shop on this day the sea did part for her. All but one tiny ripple at the front of the line. A woman enveloped in a simple working dress stood in front of the counter waiting for her order to be boxed up. She did not move even as an expectant sound was expectorated behind her. Following a few seconds of surprise, indignation and anger infusing the air within the shop, our Lady decided to step ungraciously in front of the waiting woman. She took a peek into the box sitting on the counter awaiting its final packaging, and delight alighted in her eyes.

“What a wonderful surprise” she cooed. “You have my order already prepared for me, I will take it and go”. She nimbly secured the lid of the box, and removed it from the bakeshop counter.

The Baker behind the counter looked with distress from the working woman to our Lady and back again.

“My Lady, I am truly sorry, but you have not yet paid for that package, and this dear woman has.”

“Oh” said she. “ I think you will find that my patience and presence in your shop today was payment enough.” She turned on her heels, preparing to whisk away towards her waiting transport outside.

“My Lady” the tinkling, soft voice of a stranger inquires

“If it is not so presumptuous, may I ask, what is your very favorite food?”

The lady stops in her tracks and turns to face the stranger who had spoken. It was the woman who had been audacious enough to stand her ground. Our elaborately dressed friend thought for a moment, wondering whether or not she should chide the woman for speaking to her.

Feeling the question was an innocent enough one, she decided instead to answer. “Why, my dear, it is the very thing that I am now holding in my hands.” She looks down at the box containing the decadent treat and takes a moment to envision the later hour when she will get to sit down and enjoy every bite. A languorous smile creeps into the corners of her cheeks, and she once again turns to stride out of the bakery.

If she had taken one last look through the window of the shop she would have seen that the working woman had the same smile resting on her face, the only difference being that in this face a razor-sharp glint twinkled within the eyes.

She did not look back. She had already forgotten the interaction.

Hours later, once she had finished up in town, she arrived home to her castle manor. A large, sweeping architectural beauty with delicate spires and turrets reaching impossibly for the heavens. A wide, sparkling river curled around the manor, and it was only by drawbridge that you could arrive at the front gate.

Inside her lavish home she began to make her way towards her favorite sitting room, Handing the bakery box to one of her many servants with the express instruction to have it plated and waiting for her by the time she arrived in this particular room.

She arrived. And there it was, waiting for her in all of it’s decadent glory.

One slice of chocolate cake.

She had had many slices of chocolate cake in her life, but there was something about this particular cake, from that particular bakeshop. It was perfectly moist and light. The icing was sweet, deep and smooth. When it touched the tongue it melted in a most satisfying way, leaving only the delicious taste of exquisite chocolate lingering on your palate.

It was the perfect food.

Satisfied and sated, she made her way to her bedroom and drifted off into dreams of sugary sweets, caramels and perfect slices of chocolate cakes.

The next morning she entered the breakfast room prepared to devour her regular first meal of sausages, an omelet, crumpets and butter. A gleaming silver tray was placed in front of her at the head of the table, a servant removed the tray top and there it was, a steaming plate of breakfast necessities- the tantalizing, rich aroma of meat and butter filling the air. She took a deep inhale, allowing the scents to enliven her appetite. Slowly and methodically, with the intent to fully enjoy the pleasures of eating her meal, she began to prepare her food. Finally she pierced the first morsel with her fork, brought it up to her mouth and placed it on her tongue. Closing her mouth she began to chew, alarm bells had begun to ring in her mind, but she had yet to fully comprehend what she was experiencing. After a moment she realized that the taste was wildly different from what she had anticipated. Instead of the salty, smoky flavors of sausage, all she tasted was chocolate.

Not just any chocolate. The chocolate cake that she so adored.

Still not quite grasping what was happening, she dug into her eggs. Still she tasted cake. Butter and crumpets? Nope, just chocolate cake.

With panic lacing her cries, she called out to her servants. Once they arrived she asked them

“Is this some sort of joke?”

“I’m not sure we understand what you mean My lady…” one of the kitchen girls hesitantly replied.

“My breakfast looks as it should, but it tastes like chocolate cake! What is the meaning of this?”

“My lady I assure you that we have not played a trick on you- we prepared your meal as we always do.”

“Someone is going to be punished for this, you had better figure out what has happened here or all of you will lose your pay for a year!”

“Yes my Lady” the servants lamented in unison.

“This better not happen again” She warned as she marched off to her chambers.

Lunch time arrived and once again she entered to await her meal, this time in the gardens. Her food was placed in front of her on another covered, polished silver tray, the top was removed by a pair of dexterous hands and in front of her a simple arrangement of bread, jam, butter and an array of fruits rested. She hesitated for a moment, decided all would be fine and took her first bite.

Again. It happened again.

Once more she screamed to her servants and once more they were just as confused as she was. She made good on her threat to rescind their pay and stormed off to her chambers for the second time.

This continued to happen for days and then weeks and then months. She had fired and hired so many new cooks and servants over the course of this debacle, and still there was no change. All she could taste was chocolate cake.

One day, as she dispassionately awaited her dinner, a knock on the door surprised her out of her lethargic state. She had taken to eating all of her meals in her room. Much of her life’s enjoyment had drifted away since she could no longer taste the full array of it’s flavour. She had been spoiled by chocolate cake.

She called for the waiting company to come in- believing it to be a servant with a message for her. Instead a familiar face entered the room, shutting the door behind her.

“You” Our diva cried with fury. “What are you doing here, you do not have the right, I’ll have my guards throw you out!”

The working woman just watched and smiled.

“Wait… h.h.h..how are you here? The only way to enter my home is by using the drawbridge, and to lower the bridge my express approval is needed! Someone broke their oath to me!”

“No one broke their oath, I arrived here on my own, with no help from anyone else.”

“How!?”

“It does not matter how. What matters is that I can help you. Tell me, what would you like most in the world?”

Our cake- eater took a moment to reflect and finally realized the scope of the situation.

“It was you! How dare you! I will have you sent to the dungeons for all of the despair you have caused me!”

“If you send me to the dungeons, I will not be able to help you. So tell me, what is it that you want most in the world?”

After experiencing the entire rainbow spectrum of emotions our Lady slumped down in acquiescence.

“Fine, I will give you my answer. I wish to once again be able to taste every flavour, to feel every texture and to enjoy my food as it is.”

“Wonderful. Then I will tell you how to break your curse. To enjoy all of the flavours that life has to offer, you have to be prepared to offer the same to others. Not everyone gets to live as fully as you do, or enjoy all that you are able to. Help them to do that, and you will enjoy life once again.”

Resigned to her fate, she agreed to do what was asked of her. Over the next weeks, months and years of her life, She fed the hungry delicious, satiating meals. She housed those who had nowhere else to go. She spoiled the townsfolk with beautiful clothing that was magically still sturdy enough to work in. She paid her work staff amply. She held town balls every year. The town's residents could dress up, make their way to her manor across the permanently lowered drawbridge and live a fairytale life for an evening each Winter.

Eventually she found that not only did she regain her sense of taste fully and completely, she found that life became even more delicious when she was sharing those flavours with others.

And so it was that, although hardships still occurred, and sorrow, pain and anger were still felt by all at one point or another, life still remained textured and bright.

Our heroine and her town , it can safely be said,

All lived

A Happily Ever After.