Cursed Cake!

I stared down at my plate, my stomach churning. I glanced around at the other people at the table with me, all letting out satisfied groans as they ate their share. at the sound of forks clanging against platters, scraping the last of the frosting off of porcelain, I broke into a cold sweat, my skin getting slippery under my thick dress. I nervously adjusted the crown on my head. Itched my jaw. Straightened my thick skirts. Glanced at the others. My eyes caught my plate again, my mouth filling with saliva, my eyes surely full of longing.

My maid leaned into my ear. "Your majesty, is something wrong?"

I swallowed, "No, Marionette, thank you. I'm just full... from the feast."

"But you never skip desser-"

"That will be enough," I smiled, my lips thin. Not a real smile. I looked around again. Everybody was eyeing me with interest. Marionette was right; I never skipped dessert. Ever.

Everybody in the room seemed to be challenging me. My hand was shaky as I picked up my fork. I dug it into the moist cake and through the thick, creamy frosting. I brought it to my mouth, touched it with the tip of my tongue, and put it in.

I chewed, smiling at everybody around me for effect. The flavors exploded in my mouth. Guilty pleasure coursed through my veins as I took another bite, then another.

Damn it, I thought, Marionette is just too good at making these cakes. I soon finished my share and pushed back my plate. I rose.

"Thank you all for attending tonight. You are now excuse-" My speech was interrupted by a small noise from behind me. No, no, no, please don't let it be.

Then and there, in front of the most respected noblemen and women, I royally passed gas.