<h4>Chapter 203 - In Mission For Cookies (2)</h4>


    In the end, I overdid it.


    Not only did I finish the stack of papers Alexander left forter, but I also allocated some funds for the school I''ve just started.


    I wrote a public letter I''ll publish in a newspaper, as soon as I open one. The funds for that are ready, theboratory for the first few copies as well. I onlyck a couple of journalists that will write the articles. For now, it will be a weekly with four pages, nothing more than that.


    I need a chief editor for anything more than this, so I''ll have to cope with a small size. The cirction will be of a hundred copies at most. I''ll send them to my social contacts and hope they give it a chance and subscribe for a regr supply.


    Oh, I also need a name.


    I thought something like The morning sun, but it''s too poetic. And not urate if we publish only weekly.


    ?I found the cookies!? Alexander exims while barging into his office. He leans the tter with different snacks on the desk and a cup of herbal tea.


    ?You''ve been away for almost an hour. Have you baked the biscuits yourself?? I mutter while picking one, white like snow.


    ?No, I just observed the cook as she made them.?


    ?Oh, you... That woman must be frightened to death. You can''t just stare at people while they''re working. It makes them nervous and more likely to make some mistake.?


    ?You''re right,? he nods.


    ?Of course, I''m right. What is this one with? I love it,? I say while biting the white cookie again.


    It has some kind of... Nut? Walnut?


    No, it has a different taste. The texture is interesting, different from anything I''ve ever had. I should have passed more time eating sweets, my current knowledge is ridiculous. I get excited over almost everything Alexander brings me.


    ?It''s coconut,? he replies.


    ?Never heard of it. It''s the second nut you have here in Kyre that I haven''t tried before.?


    The first were chestnuts, and they were even tastier than coconuts.


    ?It''s not from Kyre. Coconutse from the far east, dried and cut into small pieces. I tried to find a whole coconut, but it''s quite rare. I talked about it with a merchant, my friend, and he promised he would bring one the next time he visits.?


    Oh, so it''s some exotic fruit. No wonder I haven''t seen it before.


    ?Well, I talked about it almost four years ago. My friend might pass by here soon.?


    ?I like coconuts.?


    ?Shall I find you one?? he asks, looking at me with aplicated expression. Yet, he''s not backing away from the impossible mission.


    ?No, grated coconut is all right.?


    He sighs, relieved, and I almost got up to hug him again. Almost. I still am the Lady of Kyre. I can''t act like a little girl.


    ?Where are lemon cookies, though??


    ?There aren''t, but these are butter cookies,? he continues, showing me another sweet. ?Apple and butter.?


    He smirks while I try it, and indeed it''s just wonderful.


    ?You''re not craving for lemon, but for butter. The old apple cookies didn''t have much of it, but this revised recipe does.?


    ?You asked the cook to design a new recipe just because of me? Or you went there and told her to put twice the butter??


    He shrugs, avoiding to answer my question and moving his eyes away.


    No wonder he took so much time toe back.


    ?I like these too.?


    Now, we focused enough on my tastes. Let''s return to work.


    ?I need a name for the newspaper,? I mutter, biting the end of his pen.


    It''s an expensive pen from the far west, maybe a couple of centuries old. Yet no one is scolding me for nibbling on it.


    ?Morning something?? Alexander proposes.


    ?It will start as a weekly, so I can''t use the word morning. But I can use the word day if I... Mhm, Sunday? No, more like Sun Day.?


    ?What if it rains??


    ?Then Sun Day will bring good weather and news.?


    ?Then, since you found a name, you can rest now.?


    ?I wanted to invite the representative of the print houses to Stoneyard. Is it all right with you??


    ?You can invite who you want, just don''t stay alone with your uncle. Especially in front of a cup of tea.?


    ?All right.? I still have traumas from that story.


    ?Rest,? he repeats and almost drags me away by force. ?You can''t spend all your time working. Why can''t you justzy ?


    ?Oh, we can read about flowers together.?


    ?What??


    ?Your book,? I remind him. ?Isn''t it about flowers and seeds??


    ?Yes, sure,? he mumbles, but we walk out of the office to a resting room.


    ?You left the book in the office.?


    ?I''ll bring itter. Now, let''s find something else, right now. I''ve read for the whole day. I''m tired of it.?


    ?Let''s paint,? I propose. I haven''t had time for that, so my skills are rusty. Also,dy Lyana taught me how to y the piano. We didn''t have time for drawings and embroidery.


    ?Hmm, all right. We have some time before the Count''s arrival. Most probably, he''ll be herete in the evening. You can just go to sleep without worries.?


    ?Oh, I''m not afraid to meet with him.?


    ?I know. But you don''t have to stay up just for formality. Also, you''re in a higher position.?


    ?No, you are in a higher position.?


    ?We''re the same, Thea.?


    ?I won''t die of tiredness for this much. It''s just to wee a few people and smile at them. I''m not required to shake hands with his whole delegation.?


    ?You won''t need to shake hands with anyone. They will bow or curtsey to you, and that''s it.?


    ?So, why are you so against it??


    ?Because you worked all day.?


    It can hardly be considered work. The intensity is more simr to a hobby than a real job.


    ?I''m not tired. I could work some more if it weren''t for your stubbornness in keeping me here.?


    ?Weren''t you going to paint??


    ?Paint what??


    ?I don''t know,? Alexander shrugs. ?Paint me.?


    ?Oh, that''s impossible.?


    ?I wasn''t taught how to do it either, so we''re even. I''ll paint you, and you will paint me.?


    ?I already saw a drawing of me,? I remind him. ?Ah, I have it in a secret drawer.?


    ?You took it out from the trash bin.?


    ?Yes, I thought you would regret throwing it away, so I kept it for the future. I couldn''t understand what made you so upset, and I still can''t, but that drawing is a precious memory of your childhood.?