My Food Stall Serves SSS-Grade Delicacies!

Unfortunately, it was one of those nights.

Marron's head hit the pillow, but her mind refused to settle. She flipped from one side to the other, counting sheep, counting her breaths, even trying to match the rhythm of Mokko's snoring.

Two hours passed.

Nothing.

Finally, Marron sat up, her heart restless and her curly hair in disarray. "Fine," she muttered. "If sleep won't come, then sugar will."

She slipped out of bed and padded softly to the small kitchenette attached to their inn room. The cabinets creaked faintly as she opened them, hoping for something to quiet her nerves.

Her fingers brushed over bags of flour, jars of barley, and—tucked neatly in the corner—a plain wooden box stamped with an ash leaf.

She blinked. "Ashleaf tea… of course. Everyone keeps this around."

It was a common evening brew in Whetvale, known to calm the nerves and coax better sleep. Marron smiled faintly. "Guess it's the universe's way of telling me what to make tonight."

System, she thought.

[Hello dear chef!] The cheerful words glowed far too bright for the hour.

Show me a recipe for marshmallows, please.

The interface shimmered, then scrolled:

[New Recipe Unlocked: Savorian Marshmallows with Ashleaf Caramel Core]

Rank: A+

Cost to Learn: 200 XP

Marron's breath caught. A+? Wouldn't that be locked for me? She wasn't sure about her own rank, but her cooking skills were at least a D. When she made dishes using her food cart, it bumped up the taste to at least B+ or A-grade by now.

[Correct! But you may either attempt it yourself… or purchase the perfected recipe for 200 XP.

The total XP spend will be 400. Would you like to buy?]

She checked her XP, and saw she had more than enough to buy the perfected recipe.

Marron had a hunger for the soft melty magic of marshmallows, and it felt right for this sleepless night.

Ok, I'll buy it. she thought.

[Recipe purchased. Remaining XP: 1,100. Good luck, chef!]

She brewed the tea first. Smoky steam curled from the pot, filling the little room with a pine-and-fire scent. The smell was strange, grounding, like a midnight forest walk.

"Okay," she said softly. "Let's make some homemade marshmallows."

Sugar boiled until it glowed amber, streaming into the bloomed moonleaf gelatin as she whisked with aching arms.

The mixture swelled, glossy and white, ribbons catching the lantern's light like spun silver.

She understood now why one food blog declared mass-produced marshmallows as inferior.

Marron added some Ashleaf tea into a pot of hot water. While she let it steep, Marron suddenly remembered this kind of candy needed a thermometer, especially since she was going to swirl it with caramel.

I wonder if there's a candy thermometer around here?

She breathed a sigh of relief when she found a candy thermometer in one of the kitchen cabinets. "He must have had a guest who was a candy maker."

The tag read: Confectioner's Temperature Reader.

"Thank god temperature is still Celsius over here. And their time measurements are modern." She couldn't imagine living in a world where they used sun dials, or candle notches to tell time.

After 10 minutes, Marron looked up and turned the heat off of the saucepan, and let the tea cool.

Okay. Now for the next set of steps.

Marshmallow-making passed by in a blur, with Marron checking her system's recipe and then asking it for further instructions, to make sure she was doing it right.

+

By the time she scraped her marshmallow and caramel into a prepared tray, the sun had begun to rise. She had cornstarch all over her apron, and couldn't wait for the pillowy texture on her tongue.

She laughed under her breath. "Mom, you always said my best ideas came when the world was too quiet to argue with me. Guess you were right."

When dawn slipped pale and gold through the shutters, the marshmallows had set into a soft, powder-dusted pillow. Marron cut one square and popped it into her mouth.

The marshmallow melted instantly, airy and sweet, before the smoky caramel burst across her tongue. It was sweet clouds and luxurious stickiness, all in one bite.

The possibilities were now endless.

Now that I know how to do it and didn't burn myself, I can make so many more flavors!

She leaned against the counter, marshmallow in hand, and finally let herself breathe.

For the first time all night, she felt calm.

+

The morning arrived too soon, with Mokko yawning wide enough to show his sharp teeth. His nose twitched the second he spotted the plate on the counter. "What's this? Breakfast? Or… dessert?"

"Both," Marron said sheepishly, sliding the plate closer. "Marshmallows. Try one."

Mokko popped a cube into his mouth. His ears shot upright. "Soft! Sweet! Ooh—and then smoky?" He chewed happily, white sugar dust coating his whiskers. "Weird. But… good weird."

Lucy carefully wrapped a tendril around one and squished it experimentally before taking a bite. Her whole body jiggled. "It's like eating a cloud! But then—it changes flavor inside. Surprise cloud!"

They both looked at her expectantly. Mokko's ears twitched. "So… did you even sleep?"

Marron hesitated, then rubbed the back of her neck, cheeks pink. "Not really. Half excitement for meeting the guildmaster today… half nerves."

Mokko swallowed another marshmallow whole. "Well, if you keep making midnight snacks like this, I hope you never sleep."

Lucy giggled, powder dusted across her slime surface like snow.

"If you don't see me in bed, you know where I'll be," Marron said as she grabbed another marshmallow. She bit into the pillowy softness and felt the sugar do its work, making her feel more optimistic.

"Eat as many as you want. But before we go, wash up. We've got a big day ahead."

+

Arriving at Whetvale without the intention of setting up a food cart was...weird. Like she was missing one of her limbs. Marron would stick to her regular schedule right after she met Guildmaster Halloway.

I need some answers, and hopefully he's willing to give them to me without pushing me to sign up.