Page 3

CHAPTER 3

ROSALYN

T he aroma of orange and thyme lingered in the air as the Crowd Pleaser scones in my oven browned to golden perfection.

I inhaled deeply, relishing the sweet smell.

I loved baking.

Coming up with new magical recipes to nourish my customers and bring peace, comfort, and a little whimsy to their lives, filled my life with unending bliss.

And I didn’t mind tasting my creations either.

To say I loved sweets was an understatement.

Why bother eating if sugar wasn’t involved?

I was not a plate of carrots kind of girl, no matter what Grakkar thought.

I lifted the order Primrose left for me, checking it again.

The Elders of Moonshine Hollow would be meeting today to plan the Midsummer celebration and address any other issues concerning our fair city.

Primrose, half-elf caterer extraordinaire, had enlisted me to cater their breakfast.

Crowd Pleaser scones, which always put people in a good mood, were sure to help.

Through my shop window, I saw Primrose entering Winifred’s flower store next door.

I wished her luck.

Winifred would corner her, regaling her with all the town gossip.

Hopefully, we’d still make the meeting on time.

My nosy but lovable neighbor never missed anything, including somehow already knowing about my spectacularly awful date last night.

My blue wings fluttered in annoyance at the memory.

It was half an hour before opening time.

Zarina, my apprentice and a promising young kitchen witch, would be here to cover me soon.

Once the final batch of scones was ready, I’d have everything prepared for the elders’ meeting.

I gazed lovingly around The Sconery and Teashop.

It had taken time to come together, but now it was the perfect cozy spot.

Small round tables topped with vintage tablecloths and old teapots filled with flowers graced the room.

Antique teacups hung from the walls, and weathered teapots lined shelves that sparkled with just a hint of pixie dust.

My window displayed all my fresh baked goods of the day.

From cookies to golden bread loaves to my signature scones, the place exuded what I hoped felt like comfort and love to all my patrons.

This morning, I’d been busy.

I’d already brewed several blends of magically refreshing iced tea, mixed teas and herbs for enchanted and comforting hot teas, and baked a dozen varieties of scones—all lovingly made with spells for good vibes of one sort or another.

The good thing about being a pixie was that we needed little sleep.

We ran differently, which left us with boundless energy.

Being a baker was the perfect job for someone like me.

Merry tiptoed along the counter, heading to his warm spot in a basket close to the oven.

“And where have you been, you little troublemaker?” I asked.

The caticorn ignored me and continued on his way.

The magical chime dinged, and I went to the oven, opening the door to reveal the delicious orange-and-thyme scones.

I pulled them from the oven and set them on the counter to cool.

As I turned to package up a batch of bloomberry scones, Merry suddenly stopped mid-step.

He had a strange look on his face.

Was he going to be sick?

“Merry?” I asked.

His small horn suddenly glimmered with a blinding light, and he sneezed.

A cloud of glittery air enveloped us both.

To my confusion and surprise, my orange scones floated off the tray.

They glimmered brightly for a moment, lifting just a few inches off the pan, and then, with a popping sound, they dropped back down.

Merry, clearly taken by surprise, arched his back and leaped sideways, looking at me as if this was somehow my fault.

“Merry…”

He arched his back higher and lifted his body up on the tips of his toe beans, his eyes going wide.

“Oh, no, Merry. Please don’t.”

It was too late.

Merry hopped sideways down the counter and met my gaze.

I knew then I was in for trouble.

He meowed loudly, his glimmering golden wings appearing.

Zoomies.

The shop’s bell tinkled as Primrose entered with baskets of shimmering Whisperbloom sunflowers.

Winifred followed close behind, carrying a small bouquet of Moonlight Daisies, flowers known for their ability to lift spirits with their soft, pearly glow.

“Rosalyn!” Winifred called cheerfully, her petite gnomish frame peeking around the arrangement.

“I thought you could use a little pick-me-up after that date disaster. I have Moonlight Daisies for you. Oh, the nerve of that orc, ruining everyone’s dinner. The Kettlestops said everyone is talking about it. Honestly, some people have no sense of proper?—”

“Winifred, Primrose, look out!”

Merry made his move.

The caticorn jumped off the counter and began launching himself from table to table, kicking over vases and making chairs teeter.

With his little iridescent wings, which only appeared when he had zoomies, he flew around the room at lightning speed.

He catapulted off the side of the wall, narrowly missing Primrose and Winifred.

Winifred shrieked, then stepped back.

Careening sideways, Merry caused a broom stand to start to tumble.

I snapped my fingers, sending blue magic to right the stand and the chairs before they hit the floor.

“Merry!” I called, trying to calm him.

With all his claws extended, Merry slid across the floor, nearly crashing into Primrose before catching his footing.

Galloping in place for a moment before he finally got traction, he shot toward the storage room.

A moment later, I heard the telltale sounds of chaos.

I winced with every bang and crash but groaned aloud when I heard a splatter.

“Oh, burnt ends!” I cursed, certain the fresh batch of strawberry marmalade I’d set to cool had just died a terrible death.

“What is going on?” Primrose asked with a laugh, her freckled nose wrinkling as she glanced at the suspiciously sparkly cloud that still lingered.

Her curly brown hair seemed to capture some of the glitter, making her look even more magical than usual.

“Merry’s magic is acting up. That’s the second time he’s sneezed and…glitter everywhere. But something else strange happened. I think, maybe, for just a moment—” I began, glancing back at my scones.

Had they floated?

Was that real?

“Whatever it is, he got the zoomies. Sorry about the timing.”

“Oh, never mind the caticorn. Caticorns are for sad and lonely girls anyway,” Winifred said dismissively as she waved away a lingering cloud of glitter and pulled up a stool at the counter, setting the flowers thereon.

Primrose and I gave one another a knowing look.

Winifred didn’t have a mean bone in her body, but sometimes her comments cut a little too close.

“What you girls need to focus on is finding a good partner. You are such sweet, charming girls. I can’t understand why you aren’t married. Now, let me think. I know,” she said, snapping her fingers.

For a brief moment, an ethereal cloud of pink petals appeared, accompanied by the strong scent of roses.

“Primrose, what about that young wizard who opened a shop in the crystal district? He’s a handsome one.”

Primrose sighed as she settled onto one of the stools.

“I had three dates with him last spring. I think… He’s too introverted for me,” she said, shifting uncomfortably.

“Nonsense.”

“He winced when I laughed and got so startled he couldn’t stop conjuring frogs. He declined to go out with me again.”

“Bah,” Winifred said with annoyance.

“That boy is too nervous. Good with crystals, bad with people. Rosalyn, have you ever talked to that handsome vampire who runs the midnight market every Hallowmoon? He’s something of a beast. That’s your type.”

I chuckled.

“He’s handsome, I’ll give you that, but I’m a vegetarian, and he’s allergic to garlic. It would never work.”

Winifred sighed dramatically and began listing more potential suitors—most of whom Primrose or I had already dated or were so unsuitable we couldn’t help but laugh.

With a defeated sigh, Winifred slipped off her stool.

“Mark my words, I’ll find better options and have you both married by Yule. Now, have a good breakfast with the elders, dears. Oh, root rot! A town full of beautiful girls and not one suitable bachelor!” she grumbled as she headed away, the door chiming in her wake.

After Winifred left, I handed Primrose a violet-and-white-chocolate croissant—her favorite—and lifted one of my orange-and-thyme scones.

“A toast to the sad and lonely caticorn-loving girls?”

Primrose laughed.

“Cheers to that! May they long have caticorn hair on their sweaters.”

We tapped our confections together, then chewed, savoring the treat and sharing a moment of quiet misery.

The daisies on the counter seemed to glow a little brighter, as if encouraging us.

“You know what, Prim?” I said, my blue wings fluttering thoughtfully.

“I think we work too much.”

“I agree entirely,” my friend replied, brushing crumbs from her dress.

“I was awake all night going over my calendar and making a schedule for the next, I don’t know, six months? Too long, that’s for sure.”

“We need some sort of adventure,” I said.

“Something to shake things up. More than just a visit to the Moonlight Springs Spa.”

“Agreed,” Primrose said, nodding firmly.

“We need to start thinking outside the box,” I said, pouring her a cup of tea.

“And we need to make the time.”

“Sure,” Primrose replied with a wry grin.

“Right after Midsummer. After that, I’ll definitely find a way to make time.”

“Same. Right after Midsummer. I’ll start thinking about it, too.”

“But then we’ll have to prepare for the harvest season, Autumn Festival, and Hallowmoon,” Primrose reminded me.

“Okay, so we’ll do it after that. But then there’s Yule. It’s my busiest time of year. So, it’ll have to wait until after that.”

Primrose’s grin widened.

“And then we get to Lovers’ Day, which kicks off wedding season, which lasts all through spring.”

“Okay, after that,” I agreed, my wings fluttering as I giggled.

“So, Summer?” Primrose clarified, raising an eyebrow.

“Next Summer? As in the current season?”

At that, I laughed hard, then reached under the counter and pulled out a flagon, pouring just a little rosehip cordial into our cups.

“To when we’re not too busy to find true love,” Primrose toasted, tapping her teacup against mine.

“Cheers to that.”

We drank, sighed in unison, and then laughed.

As I gazed around my cozy shop and at my equally overworked friend, I realized something.

Maybe I’d never find true love, but at least I had good—even if also overworked—friends with which to share the journey.