The Royal Academy of Magical Baking

The rest of the exam would have felt anticlimactic if anyone present had been able to feel anything other than joy. Fortunately, the tidal wave of glee lingered long after the yellow light had vanished into the tin of pesto puffs. Lyra kept hearing giggle-ripples from her classmates' work-stations, punctuating their performances of various puff pastry spells. At least she knew she wasn't alone when she couldn't make it through a single round of the pesto puff Flavor spell without a few chuckles.

She tried briefly to force the mirth down into a corner of her soul and focus on the task at hand. But when Boysen gave a particularly loud "Whoop!" from the counter in front of her, reveling in the laughter tide's impact on his 'triple cheese chicken hand pies', she gave in and let the Enjoyment wave carry her.

A little extra percussion never hurt anyone, she thought as her own laughter formed a beat to the dignified galette de rois version of the puff pastry Presentation spell-song. Especially not cakes. Or kings, for that matter.

Once the butter block was pounded, the pastry dough rolled out, and the first two turns completed, Lyra sang the jubilant Flavor spell over the chilling dough. Then she turned her attention to the galette de rois fillings.

Raspberry jam was the work of a moment, especially with the secret Berry family recipe inspired by Boysen's older brother Razz. His girlfriend Hyacinth had taught it to Lyra over the summer. The thought of Hyacinth's soothing presence helped temper Lyra's euphoria, settling the more frenetic aspects of Enjoyment into a calm, steady mirth.

Stirring that peace into the pot of raspberries and sugar, Lyra sang a quick round of Madame Hazelnut's Deepening Spell over the jam and set it aside. The pesto puffs were ready to come out of the oven, so she allowed herself one moment of stillness, standing over the tin and inhaling aromatic basil-y bliss. Quickly, she retrieved the chilling galette de rois dough and performed the next round of turnings to the ever-delightful puff pastry Presentation tune.

Then, less pleasantly, it was time for frangipane. Almond had never been among Lyra's favorite Flavors, so she was especially glad of the extra pep provided by the underlying Enjoyment rhythm.

At least the process gave her the chance to incorporate some different spells. Texture and Flavor both came into play when dealing with a tricky substance like frangipane. It could easily come out too crumbly, or too moist, or utterly bland.

And despite Lyra's ongoing Enjoyment high, she was, in fact, taking an exam. She had to get this right on the first go. There wasn't time for multiple attempts.

Thankfully, Professor Puff had spent quite a bit of time on frangipane towards the end of the previous year. She had taught them a 'Cohesion Charm' invented by a baker named, remarkably, Master Frangipane. Lyra sang the charm with gusto while creaming together butter and sugar, then switched to the Soufflé Sisters Cooperation Chant for the addition of flour, almond flour, salt, and eggs. It was then a simple matter of alternating between the Texture and Flavor spells, listening hard as she added vanilla extract, almond extract, and a dash of brandy.

When a simultaneous burst of green and blue light confirmed what her instincts were singing to her, Lyra set the completed frangipane aside with a happy sigh.

If that's not fit for a king, I'll eat my hat. Preferably spread with some of this raspberry jam…

Her continual stream of background laughter erupted briefly into a snort. Boysen turned around slowly, eyebrow raised, but she waved him away with one hand while grabbing her rolling pin with the other. The exam clock was ticking down, and her galette de rois dough still needed one more round of turnings.

Lyra completed these final turns in record time. With a brief hymn of praise to whatever baking god had created magical rapid cooling drawers, she set the dough to chill. She had just enough time to put the finishing touches to her pesto puffs and arrange them neatly on a platter. Once the frangipane was in a piping bag and the egg wash was prepped, she took out the dough and set about assembling the galette de rois.

This recipe's version of the puff pastry Presentation spell was nearly as steadying as the memory of Hyacinth's smile. Lyra found it easy to slow her pace, matching her movements to the regal tune. Calmly, she rolled out a nine-inch circle of pastry dough. Sedately, she spread raspberry jam over the circle, leaving a one-inch border. Serenely, she piped frangipane in a neat spiral until it covered the jam.

Finally, with a gravity so profound that the occasional stray giggle heightened rather than disrupted it, she rolled out a second nine-inch circle and pressed it over the jam and frangipane. The spell-song came to suitably noble conclusion as she brushed the prepared egg wash over the pastry and scored it with a knife. Lyra paused to watch purple magic flow solemnly from her fingers, savoring the quiet peace flowing simultaneously through her soul.

Pesto may be more fun, she thought as the light rolled over the gleaming cake. But we need colors this deep. This strong. This quiet.

She gave the used piping bag an affectionate flick. I guess even frangipane has its place.

This time, "The Joy Song" didn't appear until the galette de rois was in the oven. The Flavor puff pastry spell, meant to be sung while chilling and baking, progressed naturally into the Enjoyment tune without skipping a beat. Lyra was halfway through the first verse before she even realized she had switched to the melody that had proven itself such a consistent catalyst for yellow light.

The magic did not disappoint, though Lyra was grateful that Enjoyment's manifestation in galette de rois was more subtle than the pesto puff eruption had been. The dome of yellow light appeared so quietly and contracted into the oven so smoothly, no one else noticed. Mac didn't even look up from the tray of croissants he was meticulously arranging.

Lyra smiled as a deep gladness settled firmly into her gut. This was definitely a different kind of Enjoyment. And after the mirth explosion from earlier, the calm majesty of 'galette de rois' felt just right.

This new, stabilizing joy acted like a warm blanket. Lyra snuggled into its comfort as the professors announced the end of the exam, then even more deeply as they began their evaluation rounds.

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It was the most relaxed she could remember being in the exam hall. Possibly at the academy, ever. Wrapped in the velvet haze of king-cake Enjoyment, she simply could not be worried.

Her gaze followed the professors dreamily around the room, marveling at the pale beauty of late afternoon sunlight in early spring.

It's golden light, she mused. Like Enjoyment. But not pesto-puff bright, or galette-de-rois deep. It's delicate… like Caramelle's lemon drizzle sponge from a couple weeks ago…

The arrival of the professors at her own counter could not shake her delicious calm. She beamed at them as they examined her two assigned bakes, poking and sniffing and tasting with expert care. Their obvious delight simply merged with the ongoing chorus in Lyra's mind, adding harmony lines that seemed to emanate green, blue, and purple sparkles.

Only when the professors gathered back at their platform did Lyra feel herself perking up, waiting for the exam's results.

"What an afternoon," Professor Genoise declared. He appeared to be floating in his own joy-haze, too contented to muster up any of the witty phrases he'd used earlier. "What… an… exam."

Professor Honeycomb couldn't even speak. She just sighed and smiled affectionately at the entire room.

Professor Puff seemed unable to stop smiling, but she rallied and carried the burden of speech for her two colleagues, praising the peculiar excellence of the students' performance in this term's exam. Never, she declared, had she encountered beef Wellington bites or palmiers with such exquisite Texture as Caramelle's, nor tarte tatin as Flavorful as Boysen's. Here, she looked to Professor Honeycomb for confirmation, but the Flavor headmistress could muster only three words:

"And those pies!"

While Professor Honeycomb dissolved into another enraptured sigh, Professor Puff pressed on with admirable determination. She spoke for a full two minutes about Mac's Napoleon cake and garlic croissants. Professor Genoise nodded adamantly as the normally stoic Texture headmistress heaped fervent compliments on Mac's 'unmatched proficiency' in Presentation and his 'obvious dedication to growth' in the other two disciplines.

Lyra glanced over at her friend to find him cleaning his glasses with especially flustered gusto, though she couldn't be sure whether this was due more to the professors' affirmation or the dazzling smile Caramelle was giving him.

Finally, the professors turned to Lyra.

"This has been a year of historic days," Professor Puff said through that new, tireless smile. "I wish the academy board could have been here to witness the transformative power of Enjoyment at work, but I am sure next week's demonstration will be suitably effective. For now, at least, we can award Aspiring Baker Treble the highest sign of recognition in our power, which she most certainly deserves."

She looked at Professor Genoise. The Presentation headmaster took a moment to gather himself, then held up a gleaming pin, shaped like the academy seal.

"For a noteworthy demonstration of the puff pastry spells in Flavor, Texture, and Presentation," he announced, "and for creating pesto puffs and galette de rois that bring truly miraculous Enjoyment to all who encounter them, we award this term's Stellar Enchantment Pin to Aspiring Baker Lyra Treble!"

The cozy cloud of joy around Lyra burst into an internal chorus of merrily ringing bells. The delight-song was so loud inside her head, it was hard to focus on anything else.

She was dimly aware of her classmates rushing towards her and enveloping her in a group hug even warmer than the 'galette de rois' Enjoyment blanket. She vaguely registered the professors pushing through so Professor Genoise could attach the Stellar Enchantment Pin to her chef's hat. With effort, she managed to carry on a detailed conversation with Professor Puff about the exact steps she had taken throughout the exam.

Only when the professors turned to each other in a huddle, earnestly analyzing possible conclusions to be drawn from the day's events, did Lyra realize the other second-years had left the exam hall. Calling another "Thank you!" to the professors, she rushed to the double doors and swung them open.

Mac and Caramelle were only a few feet away, strolling slowly along the path towards the dormitories.

"Where's Boysen?" Lyra demanded, hurrying up behind them.

"He had to leave," Mac said apologetically. "His family was waiting at the front gate. They have to catch a train."

Lyra glanced towards the front gate as her internal bell chorus dropped drastically in volume.

"Oh."

"But he said to tell you congratulations," Mac hastily added. "Again."

Caramelle raised her hand and tapped Lyra's new pin with one delicate finger. "Indeed. That's two pins for you now, Lyra. You struck quite a blow for Enjoyment today."

Lyra smiled, grateful for the persistently lingering joy-haze that softened all blows. "Thank you."

"I'll say." Mac's voice dropped to a whisper. "I didn't know Florentine could grin like that, let alone laugh. I actually forgot to be scared of her for a few minutes."

"You don't need to be scared of her, Mac," Caramelle insisted. "Or anyone. You're already better at Presentation than many older bakers I know. Certainly better than Florentine Clafoutis."

"Is that so, Meringue?"

They whirled around to find Florentine herself standing on the path behind them, arms crossed and lips twisted into a sneer.

"It is so." Caramelle tossed her head, sunlight glinting off her own Stellar Enchantment Pin from the year before. "Professor Genoise said as much at the first term exam. And Mac's only grown since then."

Florentine shook her head in mock awe. "I never thought I'd see the day. A Meringue, praising another baker's skill? Congratulating a rival on their stolen victory? Contributing to an attack on centuries of baking tradition? Your parents must be so proud."

Caramelle drew in a sharp breath.

"But you've experienced Enjoyment now," Lyra cut in, gazing curiously at Florentine. "You got swept up in it as much as the rest of us. Maybe even more."

Florentine's impressive shoulder muscles tensed. "So what?"

"So… doesn't that change anything?" Lyra asked. "About the way you think?"

For just a moment, Florentine hesitated. Lyra's inner melody spiked with a brief descant of hope.

Then the third-year narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not sure what that was, or how you did it," she hissed. "Some cheap trick, resulting in an absurd display of truly contemptible behavior. If that's what you call 'Enjoyment', then I assure you that it does not belong in a respectable kitchen. Its place is in… in a carnival. An imitation baking sideshow. That's where your 'fourth baking discipline' belongs."

Her gaze swept haughtily to Caramelle. "Along with failed bakers who squandered their potential and dishonored their good name."

"SUGAR!"

Lyra and Caramelle both jumped, taken aback by the unprecedented ferocity of Mac's voice. His nimble 'Presentation expert' fingers clenched into fists as he glared at Florentine.

"Sugar," he repeated. "That's all that is. And that's all you are, Florentine Clafoutis. Or all you'll ever be if you can't get your head out of the flour bag long enough to see what's really happening."

Florentine opened her mouth, but Mac blazed on before she could speak.

"You're jealous. Jealous of Lyra, because she's doing something no one in the baking world has ever done. Jealous of me, because I am incredible at Presentation, and you know it. Jealous of Caramelle, because Caramelle doesn't need her family name or any of that nonsense to be amazing. She just is. All on her own. She's a better baker than you'll ever be. So just go cool your overstuffed sugar-storm cakes!"

Florentine stared at Mac. He stared right back, eyes flashing behind his glasses.

Slowly, Apprentice Baker Clafoutis turned on her heel and stormed away.

"Macaron Fondant," Caramelle whispered shakily, "that is the single most majestic thing I have ever seen."

Then she placed one hand on either side of his face, leaned in, and kissed him.