Chase.epub — El Principe Y Las Pastelera - Emma

Alaric returned the next night. And the next. He swept floors, learned to knead, burned his fingers on trays. Elena didn’t know his name—he gave her a false one. But she saw his hands: too soft for scrubbing, too precise for a laborer. She said nothing.

He walked to her, took her flour-dusted hand, and knelt—not as a prince, but as a man.

“I have nowhere else to go,” he replied.

They had a daughter. She did not learn to curtsy. She learned to knead. El principe y las pastelera - Emma Chase.epub

She pulled away. “You can’t. You’re not from here. And I don’t even know your real name.”

And every morning, before the ovens lit, Alaric whispered to Elena: “I was a prince. You made me human.”

Elena’s bakery was vandalized. Eggs smashed on the door. A note: “Stay in your oven, witch.” Alaric returned the next night

He baked badly at first—burnt loaves, collapsed cakes. Elena teased him mercilessly. But over time, his hands learned. His heart softened.

Elena watched from the back, tears streaming.

Prince Alaric of Valdoria had never tasted a lie until he bit into a state banquet’s dessert—a spun-sugar palace filled with almond cream. It was exquisite, but hollow. Like his life. Every hand he shook, every smile he offered, every toast he raised was choreographed. His heart beat in waltz time, not its own rhythm. Elena didn’t know his name—he gave her a false one

“What if I stayed?” he whispered.

“Will you teach me to make bread for the rest of my life?”