Chapter 8: A Clumsy Box of Pastries in a Corner of the Corridor

The next morning, the Palace of Eternal Spring was as busy as ever. The Empress rested in her study while Xuân Đào, An Ninh, and the other maids all went about their own tasks.

Taking advantage of a moment when no one was paying attention, I slipped down to the small kitchen, determined to make good on yesterday's promise no matter what.

The young cook looked at me with some surprise and asked.

"Miss Thẩm? Want to make pastries yourself?"

He didn't ask much else, simply left the stove for me to manage on my own. I fumbled about clumsily with the measuring and weighing, my hands so awkward that even I couldn't help laughing at myself.

The mung bean paste came out too wet one moment, too dry the next, and the mold pressed unevenly no matter how I tried. I struggled with it for nearly an hour.

Finally, I managed to pack a small box of pastries, nothing fancy at all. Just a few mung bean cakes and lotus seed cakes, just enough for one person. The ribbon tied on top even ended up crooked, since my hands had trembled while tying the knot.

By midday, the Empress sent someone to deliver a few ledgers to the Bureau of Palace Affairs. I volunteered at once, already planning a route that would take me past the guards' barracks.

Mama Tĩnh only told me to go and return promptly, suspecting nothing further.

Once the task was done, on my way back, I passed by the barracks and stood before the gate, hesitating slightly, clutching the small wooden box tightly to my chest.

Unsure whether to go in and ask directly or simply wait outside. Just then, Triệu Vân stepped out from within and recognized me immediately.

"Miss Thẩm?"

He asked with a grin.

"Lost again?"

I shook my head. Triệu Vân, growing curious, asked what brought me there. Just then, Fuheng and a few other guards emerged from the training ground.

Still dressed in his dark blue guard's uniform, sword at his hip, his expression as composed as ever.

He noticed me too, but only gave a slight nod as proper courtesy demanded, without stepping forward on his own.

Triệu Vân turned and called out.

"Lord Fuheng. Seems Miss Thẩm has some business with you."

Fuheng stopped and looked toward me, waiting for me to speak. I took a breath, stepped forward boldly, and pulled him aside to a quiet corner of the corridor.

A spot where only the faint sound of wind stirring the leaves could be heard. Triệu Vân stood watching, still looking rather bewildered.

I held the small wooden box out to him, my voice carrying a touch of eagerness.

"Here. Keeping my promise. Some pastries. My thanks for seeing me back that day. This servant isn't very skilled with her hands."

Fuheng looked at the box but didn't take it right away. His gaze lingered on the slightly crooked ribbon tied around it. One glance was enough to tell this was the work of someone wrapping a gift for the first time.

He asked calmly.

"You made these yourself?"

I nodded slightly, my heart a little anxious, unsure whether he'd find fault with it. Fuheng remained silent for a moment.

By the rules, a guard shouldn't casually accept food from a palace maid. But to refuse outright, right in front of me, might well wound the sincerity behind the gesture.

In the end, he reached out and took it, his voice still measured.

"Just this once. Not necessary next time."

I was about to pout and argue back when, just then, a guard came running up from a distance, calling out.

"My lord. There's a matter..."

The moment he spotted the box in Fuheng's hands, he froze in place, his eyes darting toward me before he quickly lowered his head, mumbling an apology for the poor timing.

Fuheng glanced at him and told him to speak if there was business. The guard hastily reported that the western patrol unit had finished assembling.

Fuheng nodded slightly, saying he would come at once. Before leaving, he looked at the box in his hand, then at me, and said.

"My thanks."

Just two brief words, but this was the first time he had ever thanked me on his own. Having said this, he turned and left, his figure gradually disappearing toward the training ground.

The guard walking behind him, after a short distance, couldn't resist asking quietly about the box of pastries.

But Fuheng didn't answer, only holding the box carefully in his arms as he walked straight back to the barracks.

As he passed the resting area, several other guards spotted him and stared in open surprise, teasing him about whether even their lord had a taste for pastries.

No one knew that this clumsily wrapped box was later placed carefully on the table in his private quarters. Never once shared with anyone else.

As for me, after parting ways with Triệu Vân, I made my way back to the Palace of Eternal Spring at an easy pace. My heart felt light, as though a weight had finally been lifted, a smile tugging at my lips the whole way without my even noticing.

Privately thinking that even though the pastries hadn't turned out very pretty, at least I'd kept my promise, and that was good enough.