Isabel stood by the fireplace, wanting to prepare something special for the empress to help restore her appetite and lift her spirits. Her sleeves were rolled up, her apron securely tied, and her hands deftly maneuvered through the delicate process of baking egg tarts. Flour dusted her cheeks and apron as she carefully measured ingredients and stirred mixtures. The staff though aware of Isabel's true identity, watched from a respectful distance. Their eyes were curious, unsure of how to interact with the imperial highness in such an informal setting.
Finally, after a flurry of activity and the tantalizing aroma of baked goods wafting through the kitchen, Isabel set the tray of golden-brown tarts on the tray.
As she stood there with a small, contented smile on her face, Isabel suddenly b
