I swallowed the aroma as I took in the sight around me.

  Wooden shelves stacked with drying pastries. Tables overflowing with slightly burned bread rolls. Piles of cupcakes all slightly squished. And a sign which proudly hung off-centre behind the counter.

  Auntie Hilda’s Bakery.

  It was much too dim, much too small and much too disorganised.

  In short, a completely ordinary bakery.

  And that … that was wonderful!

  Ohohohohohoho!

  Dough rising in an oven! Sugar caramelising in a pot! Ginger fighting against honey and cloves!

  No longer was I met with a lingering cold scent and meek apologies!

  Instead, all the shelves around me were filled with a passable selection of everything a princess needed to survive … and this meant I could afford a smile!

  Indeed!

  Croissants, rolls and strudels all sat waiting for my judging eye!

  True, the fact that there wasn’t a member of staff constantly sweeping up bits of crumbling pastry was already a poor sign … but the fact there was anything to judge at all meant that all was well in the world.

  Yes, even if the world consisted of a rather cramped bakery.

  Frankly, it was abundantly clear why a minotaur wouldn’t be allowed to browse inside. His horns would have simply poked through the ceiling, to say nothing of his sword accidentally swiping the mounds of cupcakes away.

  Luckily, he now had a far more important task.

  Standing outside and looking imposing. He was doing splendidly. Only his shadow entered through the tiny window, and that meant no disturbances as I studied the most unexpected of sights.

  There, stacked upon a large platter upon the counter, was unmistakably Florella’s original La Misericordia Final chouquettes.

  I recognised them at once.

  The bright dusting of green tea powder. The aroma of vanilla. The lure of custard and buttercream. And also the promise of extraordinary bitterness.

  Yes.

  These were not ordinary little balls of pastries.

  Rather, they were an experiment which had set the world of gastronomy alight. Because whereas ordinary chouquettes were little more than puffs of sugar pretending to be dough, hers invited a peek into the grim blackness of the abyss.

  After all, they came with an ingredient nobody else had ever dared try before–

  Quantifiable love.

  Otherwise known as a highly concentrated emulsion of raw coffee beans and optimism.

  They were a creation so infamous that the servants tasked with carrying them needed to wear gloves and goggles borrowed from Clarise’s observatory. Even accidental contact was dangerous. For upon consumption, they were an astringent ball of destruction upon one’s tongue.

  But only for the unprepared.

  Once the feverish hallucination and choking had come to an end, what eventually came was a soothing ocean of delight. A caress of sugar, eggs and milk from the velvety custard to help ease away the relentless darkness of raw coffee, until all that was left was an inexplicable desire for more.

  Of course, to most, it was simply far too unyielding.

  Given that the recipe was highly complex too, I was stunned to find such a thing being sold outside.

  Indeed … this could mean only one thing!

  Yes … the standards of common bakeries were finally rising!

  I clapped my hands in delight.

  “Ohhohohohoho … how wondrous! Coppelia, do you see these little pastries?!”

  “Mmh~ I smell them too! There’s something weird going on.”

  “Not at all! On the contrary, for the common people to emulate my family is the most ordinary thing there is!”

  “Eh?”

  I smiled brightly and pointed.

  “Why, these are unmistakably the famed work of my eldest sister! That her original creation has managed to extend to even a tiny bakery is a measure of the people’s respect for her! … Goodness, I had no idea the recipe had even been shared!”

  “Ooh~ does that mean it’s dangerous?”

  “E-Excuse me! Why would you assume anything made by my family is dangerous?”

  “... Is it?”

  “Well, it’s … it’s a very bold flavour.”

  “Okay. So it’s like a 7 on the cursed chart?”

  “It is not cursed. It is blessed. Just like everything touched by the diligent hands of my family.”

  “It’s an 8, isn’t it?”

  “Initial impressions might be an 8, yes,” I conceded. “However, that’s merely an indication of its complexity. These chouquettes are quite famous after the function they were first introduced. Half the guests went from finalising their wills to plucking extras with their fingers. That’s the sort of effect they have.”

  Coppelia raised an arm enthusiastically.

  “I want to try!”

  “Of course.”

  I offered a bright smile at her enthusiasm. And maybe her blissful ignorance too.

  Naturally, it was also my duty to share in whatever momentary discomfort she felt. Although I didn’t expect anything that was crudely emulated to compare with my sister’s work, it was only right that I encourage the common bakeries of my kingdom to strive for higher standards.

  Thus, I patiently waited for the proprietor–all the while stretching over the counter and waving.

  A moment later, an elderly lady rewarded my subtlety.

  Appearing from the kitchen, she was the very picture of a kindly auntie.

  With a bun of grey hair, a melodic hum at her lips and a warm smile, she looked more likely to give away her pastries than sell them. Instead, she swiftly made her way over to the counter, paying no heed to her apron covered with enough flour to restock all of the shelves.

  Her eyes were a veritable fountain of life. Likely since we were her only customers.

  “Goodness me,” she said with a joyful tone. “I see the bell above the door has fallen off again. Apologies, apologies. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. What would you like, my dears?”

  I pointed at the mound of chouquettes.

  “Salutations. I’d like to inquire about how you came about this recipe.”

  The elderly auntie gave a good-hearted laugh.

  I smiled and waited.

  “... Oh, you do?” she said, clearing her throat momentarily. “Well, in that case, I suppose you can call it a flash of inspiration. The recipe came to me in a dream.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “A dream?”

  I was shocked.

  Why … to think that Florella had such powers as to deliver baking recipes through dream delivery! As expected of my sister, she was truly capable!

  “Indeed, my dear.” The auntie smiled. “It’s been a good few years since I’ve had one of them. But each time I do, I’m guaranteed a new favourite. Have you heard of these, then? They’re my best sellers. It’s a slow day, what with the trouble outside. But usually, I get quite a few in just for them.”

  I nodded towards the green powdered chouquettes.

  “I see. I’d expect nothing less. They certainly appear normal.”

  “Well, I hope they also taste normal. Why not have a try now? A free sample.”

  “Truly? How very generous!” I beamed, immediately poking Coppelia’s hand away as she reached for the entire mound to sample. “... But before I do, I have an additional query to make.”

  “Oh? What is it?”

  “It’s regarding the ruffians who plague this town.”

  The auntie blinked at me.

  “I’m not certain if I can help with that. All my customers are excellent.”

  “Even those who trouble you in the night?”

  She paused.

  A moment later, her eyes wandered to the shadow blocking the window. Her smile turned to one of apology.

  “Ah. The concerned gentleman from the previous night … I’m uncertain what he’s told you, but I’m afraid there’s been a terrible misunderstanding. I had my nephews visiting me, and rascals though they are, I wouldn’t quite call them ruffians yet. I should offer the minotaur an apology. He rather startled me–and I dare say my younger family too.”

  “Is that so? I’m certain he’ll be relieved to hear that. Yet perhaps you can still assist. I’m told you can discern the identity of whichever ghoul is disrupting your business by using … unique magic.”

  The auntie’s smile didn’t fade.

  However, the energy from her eyes did. Her shoulders drooped as she let out a sigh she’d doubtless made countless times before.

  “I see the rumours continue to follow me, no matter how many cakes I sell … however, I’m afraid I must disappoint you as well. It’s true I once dabbled in spirit walking. But that was long ago. These days, I can’t even call a spark to my finger. I’ve a new life now. Not as a shaman, but as a baker.”

  “Hm. It seems a remarkably different life.”

  “Oh yes.” She nodded furtively. “But we all grow and change. Myself as well. Magic is a dangerous gift, you see, and I’m happy not to need it to see my customers smile. I apologise, my dear, but I’m unable to offer my past services.”

  I nodded, neither surprised nor disappointed.

  After all, I only came to bakeries for one reason. And that was to replenish our critical provisions. If they also became a source of information, that’d simply distract from the more important task.

  “Understandable.” I plucked the topmost pastry from the chouquette mound. “Thank you for your time. I’d like to purchase a large stock of hazelnut croissants, apple strudels and cinnamon rolls.”

  The auntie’s back straightened all of 1 degree

  “That I can help with. How many of each did you wish to buy? If needed, I’m happy to bake more.”

  “Realy? That’s marvellous! In that case, I’m going to … hmmmm?”

  “... My dear?”

  A quizzical look came my way.

  It was nothing compared to my own.

  I stared at the chouquette I’d raised in front of me. And then I continued to stare.

  Because although it looked the part, there was something peculiar beyond simply the stale texture. Something which even being left out to dry in a dimly lit bakery couldn’t explain.

  Slowly, I nibbled on the very end … and then I nodded.

  Awful.

  Absolutely awful … but also amazing.

  The proportions of ingredients were all wrong. The bitterness was hardly present. The custard was stodgy. The vanilla was frail. The buttercream lacked both butter and cream. And the powdered green tea was clearly used for only decoration and not flavour.

  Altogether, it was bland, depressing, characterless … and also wonderful.

  I stared in shock at the filling.

  Indeed, it was the most forgettable and therefore ordinary pastry I’d ever eaten from a common bakery … and yet instead of immediately dismissing it from my mind, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of immense satisfaction mixed with my disappointment.

  A bizarre sensation.

  Frankly, I didn’t understand it in the slightest.

  Something was clearly wrong. And it wasn’t my highly refined taste buds. I was a princess. I could name every poor quality ingredient used as well as which speck of dirt it’d been sourced from within 15 paces of accuracy.

  However … even I couldn’t discern what made my aversion swing wildly towards enjoyment.

  Why, it was almost intangible. An ingredient I couldn’t note. Something beyond my palate. It was there and it wasn’t. A thing of utterly no substance, separated from the rest of the pastry.

  And then–

  I gasped, stepping back as half a chouquette fell to the floor.

  “... H-How dare you!” I said, my hands covering my mouth.

  “My dear?”

  “You … You have used magic to enhance the flavour!”

  All of a sudden, the auntie’s eyes widened.

  She had no right to be stunned. That was entirely for me.

  After all, what she’d done … was an unforgivable sin!

  To cheat, no, to disgrace her entire profession with magic was the lowest of the low! Those caught were instantly exiled into culinary obscurity! It was a heinous crime, for it did away with all the sweat required to make up 95% of the taste!

  “My dear,” said the con artist much too quickly. “I’m not quite sure what you just said. But I think you must be mistaken–”

  “I most certainly am not!” I pointed to the … thing on the ground. “You cannot fool me! This … This is atrocious! The first and doubtless worst imitation of a chouquette I’ll ever suffer! No amount of false enjoyment can smother the lack of quality and expertise beneath!”

  A feigned look of horror met me.

  “I’m a baking professional! I’ve been doing this for more years than I can count!”

  “Well, it seems you don’t count grams, either! But why should you when magic will make up the rest!”

  “Perhaps … Perhaps there’s an issue with the ingredients? It’s been a difficult few days.”

  “It’s been longer for your customers, apparently. Why, all this time, they’ve had no idea they’ve been waffling down baked magic! That cannot possibly be healthy!”

  A pause met me.

  “There’s nothing unhealthy about magic. It’s perfectly natural.”

  “So you admit you’re using magic?!”

  “I admit these chouquettes are my best sellers–I’ve even won several awards for them!”

  “Awards not overseen by me and are therefore invalid! This is inexcusable! Using magic to debase such a regal recipe is an act lower than what any bandit on a road could achieve … and neither me nor my loyal handmaiden will accept it!”

  I waited for Coppelia’s huff of indignation.

  “Omnomnomnomnomnomnomnom~”

  Instead, I turned in dismay to see a mound of fraudulent chouquettes vanishing into the void.

  I pursed my lips … then returned to the equally stunned con artist.

  “H-How dare you damage Coppelia’s taste buds! They’re already harmed beyond repair! That you would seek to do even more to them is unforgivable!”

  I waited for the apology.

  However, far from immediately straining to grovel, the fraud briefly wrinkled her nose. The smile she’d worn returned as an impression even worse than her attempt at baking.

  “My dear. I do believe you’re mistaken. As I said, I can no longer cast magic.”

  “Well, then I suppose there’ll be no issue if I summon the nearest mage to investigate the possibility. I’m certain one can be found in the garrison somewhere. Rest assured, if I’m wrong, I shall offer full reparations.”

  Thus, I immediately turned for the door.

  Pwam.

  It closed with a shudder, followed by the sound of a lock being turned.

  I looked behind me to see a sparkle of magic upon the finger of an auntie who could apparently no longer cast magic.

  Her eyes narrowed at me, just before she clicked her tongue.

  “... All right, you brat,” she said, the far more natural tone of an irate cat owner replacing the kindly voice from before. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile.

  “Ohhohohoho! Most wonderful! Indeed, let’s converse without the needless pantomime! Honesty is far better than classless deceit!”

  “Fine. What is it you want? … Crowns?”

  “Yes. But not from you. You may rejoice. I’ve no wish to extort you. Only to see your scam revealed for all your customers to see.”

  “This is my business. That would ruin it.”

  “That’s impossible. You’ve already done that. And I’ve not a single idea why. Perhaps without the magic, your chouquettes would only be subpar in quality. There are worse ways to embarrass yourself. Such as this.”

  The fraud suddenly snorted. The spark of magic upon her fingertip failed to fade.

  “Subpar isn’t good enough,” she declared. “Do you have any inkling how competitive the world of baking is, girl? It’s more than sugar and spice. But blood enough to turn a street with far too many bakeries into a battlefield.”

  I leaned in and smiled. The auntie leaned back.

  “Ohohoho … do you think I don’t know that?”

  “What?”

  “I’m the one who presides over those battlefields. My ratings break careers. As you shall now learn.”.

  “... Who are you, girl?”

  A frown filled my eyes. I offered a pleasant smile.

  “Why, I’m the most impartial judge you’ll ever meet. And you’ve now scored a -1/10. My congratulations. This is an exceedingly rare score. Frankly, with such an overwhelming lack of talent, you should have remained a roadside conjurer or whatever you were before.”

  A look of puzzlement flickered across the swindler’s face.

  Then, her eyes glanced towards the copper ring disgracing my hand.

  The reaction was immediate. She lowered her arms, then with a loud clank, she drew out a crooked staff from behind the counter. Taller than she was and grimmer than the wrinkles on her face, it boasted a gemstone of black opal swirling with living magic.

  “What I was before was the same as now,” she said proudly. “Except with a few extra titles. I was Matron Hilda of the Barren Waste. It was I who seized the secrets of the earth from the spirit walkers. And it was I who brought the storm to them. You’re extremely foolish to call me out of retirement, adventurer.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I hardly see why. Now you can cast your magic freely. Perhaps if you use every speck you possess, you can conjure an actual baker to do your job for you.”

  The auntie’s nostrils flared.

  A moment later, her staff burst into crackling black flames.

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