Cedric was a striking bachelor with a deep love for sweets and an unparalleled talent for baking, which had earned him a coveted role in the royal kitchen. Known for his warm brown eyes and ever-present dusting of flour on his clothes, he was a man of quiet passion, pouring his heart into every loaf and tart he crafted.

One chilly night, Cedric found himself alone in the expansive kitchen, the comforting hum of the ovens his only company. He had volunteered for the late shift to perfect a delicate pastry for the prince’s upcoming banquet. The room was bathed in a soft golden glow from the lanterns, the air rich with the scent of caramelized sugar and fresh bread.

As he worked, a faint rustling sound broke the stillness. He paused, his hand hovering over a tray of unbaked dough. The sound came again—soft, like fabric brushing against shelves, followed by the faint clatter of something being disturbed. Setting down his tools, Cedric grabbed a nearby ladle and moved toward the noise, his steps measured and silent.

Reaching the pantry door, he gripped the handle firmly and swung it open with a swift motion. There, illuminated by the flickering light, was a figure hunched over a shelf, hands clutching stolen bread, crumbs scattering across the stone floor. The sight of the intruder froze him for a moment—the brazen act, the messy trail left behind, the air of desperation.

Cedric’s deep voice broke the silence, steady yet tinged with disbelief. “I wasn’t aware the palace invited midnight guests to raid the kitchen.”