I couldn't answer Prince Elvin's question. Before I could find the right words, a maid entered the room and told me something that shook me even more—the king hadn't eaten for days.
I understood the pain he was going through. It was unbearable. But refusing to eat wasn't the way to mourn the dead. Staying alive and strong was. Even mother would never have supported that kind of grief. She would be heartbroken if she heard what he was doing to himself.
Without saying a word, I left the room and headed straight to the kitchen. I was going to prepare his food myself. Everyone in the palace looked shocked. Princesses weren't meant to cook, and everyone knew it. Even the king once teased me about it when we were in the woods together.
But I was not like the others. I wasn't raised in a golden room or pampered with silk and jewels. I was raised by the tough hands of life. I had learned to survive, and cooking was one of the many things I knew how to do.
