A Spell Too Sweet [ONC2025]

The streets of Belarune City were livelier than usual, and the shopping district was overflowing with people trying to finish their preparations in time for the festival. There were less than five days to go, and Laura was feeling the pressure more than anyone else.

There was an ongoing list at the back of her mind, tasks popping in and out as she completed them. There were two at the very top, though: figuring out her contest entry and making sure that the antidote had worked. But she could not work on those until after all her customers had been served, and there were a lot of them.

Young and old, they all looked upon her creations with glittering eyes and a contagious excitement which was better than any praise short of the actual golden medal. They enjoyed themselves and were ready to spend a small fortune. Even the expensive gold-dusted truffles were in high demand. If things kept up, she would run out of them before the end of the day.

Laura enjoyed herself, too. It reminded her of the long-gone days when she helped her mother in this very shop, packaging orders and listening in on the town gossip. A busy store was always full of talk.

It was like that in the present, too. Even without paying attention, the gossip got to her. She heard about things ranging from the latest fashion trends in glamour spells to scandals in the high mage society. She also found out that the King was working on a trade agreement with the Queen of the Firefields, who would be participating in the Harvest Feast festivities.

Making herself known to the local royal family was enough of a motivator for her to win the contest, but the chance to catch the eye of a foreign queen added even more to her determination.

All she had left to do was actually craft the dessert worthy of that first place. And if Ambrose was truly out of her hair, she should have no problem doing it.

She felt uneasy all day, remembering how he had left in a rush after having the potion. It was hard to tell whether he had done it because his bespelled feelings were truly cured, or just because he was angry at her for not believing him.

He hadn't returned to visit since, even though he always took a break at midday, and Laura hadn't been able to catch sight of him all day. Every time she had a spare moment to peek through the front window, the bakery across the street was swamped with customers, and there was no way for her to discern him in that crowd.

It was like that all day. Even after the usual closing time, when Laura parted with her final customers, there was still a queue in front of Waycasters' bakery, and still no sight of him.

Not that she had any reason to look for him, she told herself, when there were so many other tasks waiting for her in the back. But one hour later, when she needed to get her ledger from the till, she stole another look outside. There were still people hanging about. A little after that, as she happened to pass by the workshop door, she saw that the Closed sign was hanging in the bakery window, but the chimneys were still spewing out smoke.

By the time the sun was starting to set and the failing light made it hard to work, Laura made one more trip to the front of the shop, only to see that the lights were out across the street. Ambrose had gone home without paying her any mind.

Things were as they had been before, just as she had wished. She had the peace and quiet she needed to concentrate on her work, yet she still felt that something was amiss.

That uneasy feeling followed her home, sneaking into her dreams and poisoning her sleep.

"You don't look so good," her uncle had remarked as soon as he saw her the next morning. "Is something going on?"

She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. "Things are going right, for once. There are four days left until the festival, and my sweets have been flying off the shelves. I had to put in some overtime to make sure I have enough to sell today."