Eating cookies

Her delicate fingers traced the pages of the ancient recipe book, pausing momentarily as she committed each step to memory. Seraphina Alaric had discovered this particular recipe years ago, during a time when food was scarce and her health had been frail. It had become a comforting ritual, a small piece of normalcy amidst the chaos of her life.

"I'd like to give some to the Duke later, if they turn out well," she mused aloud, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

Gilbert, the ever-dutiful butler, watched her with a mix of admiration and concern. It was rare to see Seraphina so animated, her usual pallor replaced by a soft glow of anticipation.

She set to work, separating egg whites from yolks with practiced ease. Pouring a precise amount of sugar into the whites, she began whisking the mixture with swift, expert movements. The chef, standing nearby, looked on with a mix of awe and anxiety, his own hands twitching as if to assist.