Francisca noticed the boy turn quiet before he punched the air, and smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair gently. "I'm sure she is fine then, and when you return home, you can visit her in Paris. If I am the France in that world, I'll make sure to bring you to my house and give you many good things to eat!"

Once Romeo was done pouring the mix, Francisca carefully put it in the oven, setting the little timer on the work bench. "She's American, of course she likes sweets," she murmured, chuckling fondly. "Now then, what kind of icing shall we put on this cake? Buttercream? Chocolate?"