Bite Back

In The Kitchen

True to her word, Beatrice came well before dawn to wake Wyleen and take her to the kitchen for her first day as an apprentice of the pastry chef. Getting dressed, she winced; it was only then that she noticed the swelling in her wrist. Still being able to move her fingers, she wrapped a bandage around her wrist and hand to offer it some support and compression, but didn’t have time to pay it any mind. Donning a cloak for the chilly morning, Wyleen followed Beatrice through the corridors.

Upon entering the kitchen, Beatrice introduced Wyleen to the pastry chef, Guido, who was hesitant to take the bride-to-be under his wing. “We’ll be preparing doughnuts this morning. I will teach you how to bake them, fry them, and glaze them with the finest ingredients. Try to keep up; we can’t afford to waste time.”

“Why doughnuts today? Usually, Mama prefers puff pastries,” Beatrice asked.

“Young master Katakuri is staying at the château. Those are his favorite pastries,” Guido explained in a hurry, trying to sift flour as he talked.

“Katakuri?” Wyleen repeated, glancing at Beatrice, who shared a knowing glance, having found out this information.

The morning was spent whisking cream for filling, trying her best to fill the paczki without making too much of a mess. Though her wrist was making the task excruciating, she was determined to complete simple tasks to the best of her ability before she was whisked back to her room before the rest of the castle woke up for the day. It was while she was tossing the fried doughnuts in cinnamon sugar that she was told it was time for her to go by Beatrice. Wyleen thanked Guido and the other chefs in the kitchen for their patience before departing with Beatrice as she pulled her hood back up over her eyes.

“Wylee, I have to go back to the servants’ quarters. Promise me you will go straight to your room. I’ll be seeing you later. You’ll have a busy day today.”

“Who else will keep me in line?” Wyleen smiled at Beatrice before turning to go back to her room. The tapping of her shoes echoed against the wall of the château as she ran through the corridors. Being just before 6 am, she wasn’t expecting to, literally, run into anyone on her way back upstairs. “Oh, I beg your pardon,” Wyleen apologized before seeing who it was she had run into. s**t.

“A bit early for you to be awake, isn’t it?” Katakuri raised an eyebrow at her.

“I told you I had an early morning,” she said, trying to walk by.

“I didn’t dismiss you.”

“I didn’t ask if I could be.”

Katakuri grabbed Wyleen’s arm, causing her to give an involuntary yelp due to the pressure on her injured hand. “What are you doing walking around the château? You’ll answer me honestly,” he knelt down to look her in the eyes.

“Why do you care?”

“It’s my right to know.”

“I was helping with breakfast. Does that suffice?” Wyleen tried to take her hand back, but the pain was more than she could push past to take her arm back.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he had no reason to believe she was lying. Mama did say she would help out from time to time. “Fine. Then I will see you at breakfast?” He let go of her.

“If I’m going to be shackled, I would rather not if it can be helped. I’m not going to sit there just to be insulted further.” Wyleen held her sore wrist; the throbbing could be felt through the bandages she had wrapped herself in a few hours prior.

“What’s wrong with your hand?”

“It’s just sore. May I leave now, sir?”

“Let me see.”

“Why? I’m fine, I can assure you. Don’t waste your time or mine, for that matter,” Wyleen started to walk away.

Katakuri grabbed her upper arm, holding it up as he pulled her sleeve down. “What’s this?” He unwrapped the bandage from her hand, revealing her swollen pink-purple splotched wrist. “Who did this to you?” He growled.

Wyleen snatched her hand back from him, “You did.”

His eyes widened the slightest bit; he had forgotten how he had handled her the evening before. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why? I just want to go back to sleep; it’s nothing to fuss over,” she protested.

“Because you’re hurt. The infirmary is on the next floor. I’ll give you the chance to come willingly, or I'll carry you like a child, since you are so insistent on acting like one.” She rolled her eyes, but said nothing more as she followed Katakuri; the familiar jingling echoed with each step. Neither of the two said anything along their way. It wasn’t until the château’s doctor saw the two walk in that Katakuri spoke, already knowing what the doctor was going to say and ask. “My fiancé requires treatment for her wrist.” He turned to leave.

“O-Oh, yes, of course, Master Katakuri,” the doctor stammered.

“Thank you, Katakuri,” Wyleen mumbled, not looking in his direction.

He paused for a brief moment and smiled slightly to himself behind his scarf as he exited the infirmary. “Of course, dear.”

***

It wasn’t until early afternoon that Wyleen woke back up. Only realizing she wasn’t in her bed when she felt the weight of her injured hand in a plaster cast. “What the hell?” She looked around, getting her bearings. She felt heavy, tired, but not exhausted.

“Oh, thank God, you’re awake.”

“Bea?” Wyleen yawned, “Why am I here?”

“The doctor said you broke your wrist. How did you manage that?”

Katakuri, she recalled the events from last night and this morning, not sure if she should be truthful or not. “I—I don’t recall, exactly.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “Master Katakuri said he noticed your injury this morning, but maybe you’ll figure it out when the anesthesia wears off. I thought I told you to go straight to your room?”

“They put me under?” She changed the subject.

“Your wrist was practically shattered,” the doctor interjected. “Pins, rods, wires, the works. The brake looks fairly fresh, within the last 24 hours, I would say.” He flipped through Wyleen’s chart as he offered the information to her. “If Master Katakuri hadn’t brought you in, I fear you would have been at risk of infection.”

Sighing and rubbing her head, Beatrice spoke, “What am I going to do with you?”

“I dunno,” Wyleen shrugged, looking down at her hands. How was she going to be able to work in the kitchens with her dominant hand, undoubtedly restricted in its movements?

“Not to worry, Miss Wyleen,” the doctor had come over to check her vitals and inject what she assumed was a pain reliever into her IV drip. “If you’re worried about being in a cast at your wedding, we have the finest medicines from all around the world. Big Mom makes sure of that, and we’ll have you fixed up in a few days.”

“Days?” Wyleen and Beatrice said in unison.

The doctor looked at the two women, slightly taken aback, “I’m afraid that’s the best we can do with the severity of your injury. I apologize.”

“No, no, that’s quite all right; I was just surprised that it would only be two days. It’s quite remarkable, actually,” Wyleen reassured him.

“This time tomorrow, we’ll be able to take some of the hardware holding your bones together out, in fact.”

Wyleen leaned back into the pillows, reassured, “Brill, that’s excellent news.”

“You will still need a cast, of course, but only for another day or two. Not to worry, you’ll only be here in the infirmary for another day or so,” the doctor said before walking away from the other two.