The room was still warm from the fire and from everyone's nervous breathing.
Isabella had Cyrus help lift the clay pot again. This time they tipped it carefully and let the soft, golden round cake slide out on a flat, cleaned stone. It wobbled a little as it landed, like it was shy about being seen by so many people.
Steam curled up in white wisps. The fragrance grew even stronger.
Ophelia almost drooled on the spot.
"So soft…" she whispered, hugging her own cheeks. "Isabella, it looks like a big fluffy stone. I want to bite it."
Shelia coughed lightly beside her, but her eyes were just as glued to the cake.
Kian leaned closer without thinking. For a king who normally did not care about food as long as it was edible, this was rare.
