Chapter 4
“Custard, be good for White Lily, alright?”
Pure Vanilla knelt down, resting a gentle hand on the small Cookie’s shoulder. His voice was warm as ever, but Custard Cookie III barely reacted.
He just stood there, scepter clutched tight, crown slightly askew.
White Lily Cookie, watching from the side, tilted her head. Custard was usually bursting with energy—shouting about royal decrees, demanding his “loyal subjects” attend to his every need (which often just meant giving him extra sweets).
But right now?
Right now, he was… still.
Too still.
“I won’t be long,” Pure Vanilla continued. “I just need to take care of something outside the kingdom.”
White Lily nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
She expected Custard to huff and cross his arms, to declare that he didn’t need a babysitter, because he was a king, obviously.
Instead, he just muttered a quiet, “Okay.”
White Lily’s brows furrowed.
Pure Vanilla smiled and ruffled Custard’s hair. “I’ll be back soon, little one.”
With that, he turned and stepped through the grand doors of the palace, leaving a trail of warm light in his wake.
The doors shut.
The light faded.
And Custard Cookie III… didn’t move.
White Lily watched him carefully.
He was sitting on one of the large cushions in the royal hall, his tiny hands resting limply on his knees.
Usually, he’d be making a fuss. Asking for sweets. Demanding to sit on the throne “just for a little while.” Running around until he inevitably tripped over his own cape.
But now?
Silent. Still.
White Lily moved closer, kneeling beside him.
“…Custard?” she asked softly.
He flinched. Just barely.
White Lily’s frown deepened.
She reached out, gentle, brushing his golden curls aside. “What’s wrong, little king?”
Custard swallowed.
He gripped his scepter a little tighter.
“…What if he doesn’t come back?”
White Lily’s heart clenched.
She studied him, watching the way he kept his gaze down, the way his small frame had curled inward.
And suddenly, it all clicked.
She had heard whispers before. About a child left alone in the snow. About a crown made of paper, held together by sheer will and hope.
About a boy who had learned, too young, that promises didn’t always mean forever.
“Oh, Custard…” she breathed.
His hands curled into fists. “It’s okay,” he mumbled, too quickly. “I—I know he’s busy. Kings get left behind sometimes. It’s… just how it is.”
White Lily’s throat tightened.
No child should ever have to think like that.
“…Look at me.”
He hesitated, but eventually, those wide blue eyes lifted to meet hers.
White Lily reached out, cupping his face with the same gentleness that Pure Vanilla always used.
“You were left behind before, weren’t you?”
Custard sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders tensing.
White Lily’s touch remained steady.
“Listen to me, little one,” she whispered. “Pure Vanilla will come back. He always comes back.”
Custard swallowed. “But what if he doesn’t?”
White Lily smiled softly.
“Then we’ll go find him together.”
Custard stared.
His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to argue—but there was no doubt in White Lily’s voice. No hesitation.
No false comfort.
Just an unwavering promise.
And for the first time in a long, long time…
Custard Cookie III let himself believe it.
A few hours later, the doors to the palace swung open.
Pure Vanilla stepped inside, a gentle breeze swirling around him. “I’m home—”
He didn’t even get to finish before Custard Cookie III bolted across the hall, launching himself straight into his arms.
Pure Vanilla barely caught him in time, stumbling back a step.
“Oh—! Custard?”
The child just clung to him, face buried in his robes.
White Lily smiled from where she stood, watching as Pure Vanilla’s expression softened.
“I missed you,” Custard mumbled against his chest.
Pure Vanilla chuckled, holding him close. “I missed you too, little king.”
And in that moment, Custard Cookie III knew.
Some promises did mean forever.