After an hour or so, Yaone stepped back from a bowl full of a blue-green batter with a decisive nod. “This should work,” she said, taking the carefully-sliced strawberries from Dokugakuji and adding them to the mixture.
“Should the be stoked?” Dokugakuji asked, turning an eye to the ominous mouth of the appliance in question. Yaone shook her head.
“No. This mixture should cure for two hours at a medium-hot heat. That should do perfectly.”
Dokugakuji raised an eyebrow. He was fairly certain that baking usually didn’t involve words like “cure” but, then, it really couldn’t get worse. He transferred the tin into the oven, and then set to finishing cleaning up the mess.
Yaone was a skilled cleaner, apparently. Ingredients quickly ordered themselves, and garbage was sealed away in the proper receptacles. One for stuff beyond help or inedible, and the other for edible things. Dokugakuji tried not to think too hard about where the “possibly still edible” things went. The castle had no livestock that he knew about. Despite efficiency, the “curing” had nearly completed by the time the kitchen was complete, and Yaone pulled the pan from the oven.
They both stared at it. The strawberries had turned a strange sort of orange color, and the bread surrounding them was a pale, unnatural purple.
“I...” Dokugakuji began, and then trailed off.
“...don’t think muffins are supposed to look like this,” Yaone finished miserably.
Dokugakuji sighed. “I suppose we did our best.”
The door creaked open as he finished. “Did your best at what?”
Yaone and Dokugakuji blinked up at one of the last men they’d hoped to see their failure.
“Baking, Lord Kougaiji ,” Yaone said, bowing quickly.
“What she said,” Dokugakuji replied, sheepishly scratching at the back of his head.
“I...see,” Kougaiji said after a pause, eyeing the oddly-colored muffins.
“I’ll just throw these away now,” Yaone said, voice descending in the tone she only used when she’d failed her personal savior.
“Wait!” Kougaiji said, grabbing the pan from her, apparently oblivious to the heat. Which he probably was. He stared down at the pan.
“These were, are, muffins?” he said, wonderingly. Dokugakuji said nothing, and Yaone simply tried to melt into the floor.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Muffins, I....” Whatever he was going to say was masked by the door slamming against the wall as it opened again, hard.
“Muffins?!” a whirl of reddish-yellow said, grabbing the pan from Kougaiji . Before anyone could say anything, two were missing from the pan. Indeed, missing from sight.
“They aren’t very good,” the whirl stated as it revealed itself to be Lirin. “Kinda nasty. You should yell at the cook, brother.”
Muffins Fit for a Prince 2/3
After an hour or so, Yaone stepped back from a bowl full of a blue-green batter with a decisive nod. “This should work,” she said, taking the carefully-sliced strawberries from Dokugakuji and adding them to the mixture.
“Should the be stoked?” Dokugakuji asked, turning an eye to the ominous mouth of the appliance in question. Yaone shook her head.
“No. This mixture should cure for two hours at a medium-hot heat. That should do perfectly.”
Dokugakuji raised an eyebrow. He was fairly certain that baking usually didn’t involve words like “cure” but, then, it really couldn’t get worse. He transferred the tin into the oven, and then set to finishing cleaning up the mess.
Yaone was a skilled cleaner, apparently. Ingredients quickly ordered themselves, and garbage was sealed away in the proper receptacles. One for stuff beyond help or inedible, and the other for edible things. Dokugakuji tried not to think too hard about where the “possibly still edible” things went. The castle had no livestock that he knew about.
Despite efficiency, the “curing” had nearly completed by the time the kitchen was complete, and Yaone pulled the pan from the oven.
They both stared at it. The strawberries had turned a strange sort of orange color, and the bread surrounding them was a pale, unnatural purple.
“I...” Dokugakuji began, and then trailed off.
“...don’t think muffins are supposed to look like this,” Yaone finished miserably.
Dokugakuji sighed. “I suppose we did our best.”
The door creaked open as he finished. “Did your best at what?”
Yaone and Dokugakuji blinked up at one of the last men they’d hoped to see their failure.
“Baking, Lord Kougaiji ,” Yaone said, bowing quickly.
“What she said,” Dokugakuji replied, sheepishly scratching at the back of his head.
“I...see,” Kougaiji said after a pause, eyeing the oddly-colored muffins.
“I’ll just throw these away now,” Yaone said, voice descending in the tone she only used when she’d failed her personal savior.
“Wait!” Kougaiji said, grabbing the pan from her, apparently oblivious to the heat. Which he probably was. He stared down at the pan.
“These were, are, muffins?” he said, wonderingly. Dokugakuji said nothing, and Yaone simply tried to melt into the floor.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Muffins, I....” Whatever he was going to say was masked by the door slamming against the wall as it opened again, hard.
“Muffins?!” a whirl of reddish-yellow said, grabbing the pan from Kougaiji . Before anyone could say anything, two were missing from the pan. Indeed, missing from sight.
“They aren’t very good,” the whirl stated as it revealed itself to be Lirin. “Kinda nasty. You should yell at the cook, brother.”