Continued from Part II on the first anniversary of the events…

Driving through the night, we smuggled the Queen of Cakes into deepest, darkest Devon where she fell asleep soundly in an awaiting attic room.

Rising the next morning to clear, blue skies and a burgeoning summer warmth, we prepared gifts of ginger scones …

… for friends over the estuary. While the princesses swung lazily in hammocks in the dappled light of a forest clearing, we feasted regally on wholesome hog roast and mouth-watering crackling.

Fortified against adversity, we set off for adventure amongst the ancient, granite tors of Dartmoor. Whether the little prince and princesses searched for fairies or the fearsome hound among the jumbled, weathered rocks was uncertain, but candy prizes were discovered in hidden places and celebrated with joyful cartwheels.

It was a time for magic to unfold effortlessly …

… in the soft bubbles that left smooth, large holes in the crumb of the bread …

… and in the sunlight that danced on the gentle waves and warmed the round pebbles on the beach at Budleigh Salterton.

The Bridge Inn was sleepily unaware of its second royal visit in history while the Queen of Cakes gracefully sipped from her first pint of Real Ale.

We were transported to a Land of Cakes on the sweet, comforting aromas that filled the kitchen and drifted through the house and out into the streets.

In a final act of mischief, the Queen of Cakes arrived unannounced for tea with Melinda and Jeannette, causing great surprise and excitement among the shelves at Dart’s Farm.

With luxurious spoonfuls of West Country ice-cream …

… and moist slices of Golden Lemon Almond Cake …

… stories were swapped and tales were told.

As the shared meals became no more than treasured memories …

… we reluctantly released our hold on the Queen of Cakes and returned her with promises of everlasting friendship to her homeland.