Chapter 4 The Menu

I scanned the menu. Most of the items were already in the pantry, but a few would require a trip to town. I had developed my skills as a cook over these last six years. It was part of my earning my keep. It was something I actually enjoyed. Taking the foods harvested from the garden and from the farm and turning them into delicious meals brought me so much joy. I reveled in creating new delights.

These items must be the favorite of the crown prince and his family. Royal tastes are so pretentious. I much prefer a simple meal of bread and stew. These menus do allow me to practice my cooking skills so I appreciate them for that.

“How late do you think we will be working tonight?” Groaned Maristela. Maristela was my best and only friend. She was an omega by birth and worked the kitchens along side me all these years.

“Does work ever end?” I ask.

“I heard the the Crown Prince was coming tonight. Alpha is hoping to pair Horus with his daughter. They are barely 6. It’s ridiculous.”

“Even Osiris can’t dictate to the moon goddess who Horus’ mate will be. This dinner is important, it’s best if we give the best possible service tonight. Then we can push ourselves through breakfast service and then they will be off to their next social appointment.” I knew the consequences of disappointing the alpha.

“I know, I know. It’s not long until you will have your moon ceremony and escape this nightmare. The Luna had very specific instructions on the tablescape so I have to go to the florist. Is there anything you need while I am in town?” She asks.

“Yes, I’ve made a list. Please stay focused and get everything.” Mari had a tendency to daydream. She would forget her head if it wasn’t attached to her body. “Moth- er I mean the Luna was very specific about the menu too, and I cannot mess it up.” Only Horus was allowed to call the Luna mother. I was a slave now, I had only masters, no mother or father.

“I always come through. Just because I forgot something last time doesn’t mean—“

“You forgot the wine when the menu was Coq au Vin! The wine is in the name of the dish!” I screech.

“Whatever. Dinner got done and it was delicious. You got the wine eventually.” She challenged. She then began to cackle with amusement.

It was hard to be mad at Mari for long. She meant well and she made my situation bearable. We all had our flaws. She took her cloak from the rack and bid me farewell. I set my mind on starting on this menu.

Consommé. Poached salmon with hollandaise. Venison with roasted root vegetables. Wild mushrooms with herbs. Roasted artichoke. Bacon wrapped quail. Fresh bread and butter. Champagne sorbet. Chocolate mouse with seasonal berries. Cheese and wine.

A meal fit for a future king and his heirs.

I never liked the concept of the monarchy. Just by being born you have a right to rule over people? Just by being born you own all the lands and collect taxes and rent from the people? Paying taxes and rent so the King will never have to sweep a floor, cook a meal, work a job, or even get dressed by himself. Hundreds of people some slaves some paid to wait around to service the monarch’s every need and whim all which they are entitled to by birth. The goddess destined it to be so. Sycophantic nobles and aristocrats falling all over themselves to praise the monarch’s mediocrity.

The King rode a horse. *Claps*

The Queen wore a dress. *Claps*

The idea that we all have to pretend that cutting a ribbon or reading a speech is the most brilliant thing we have ever witnessed is asinine. Come scrub the kitchen floors and fetch your own breakfast. I think it’s pure greed. The monarch takes from the people our crops, money, and rent all to parade around and attend parties. Their lives would be impossible without the people. They keep the masses hungry and underemployed to make it impossible to challenge the absurdity of it all. Forcing us to bow and obey.

I hold no respect or love for our royal family. People suffer while they dine on gourmet cuisine. I serve as a slave because their dysfunctional family dictates tradition.