The Royal Academy of Magical Baking

Lyra curtsied deeply as Caramelle's parents bore down upon her. "An honor to see you both again, Lord and Lady Meringue."

Gâteau Meringue vaguely waved a hand, as if shooing away a pesky fly. "Miss Treble."

His wife sniffed dismissively beside him. Then, as if the very sight of Lyra brought on the sense memory of a flour cloud, Ganache Meringue sneezed three times in swift succession.

"And then, of course, there is me." The tall, comically skinny man who had entered with the Meringues bustled up to Lyra and stood directly in front of her, crossing his arms and looking down at her from his impressive height. "Master Palmier Dacquoise. I am sure you have heard of my great-great-grandmother, Madame Dacquoise. Though I doubt you have quite reached the level of successfully completing her spells."

"I… we spent a lot of time with her work last year," Lyra stammered.

"Surely you remember the third-term curriculum for first-years, Palmier," Master Chiffon said mildly. "You are on the board."

Master Dacquoise sneered. "I am well aware that my great-great-grandmother is the focus of the third term curriculum for first-year students in Texture. I am less aware of Miss Treble's abilities to perform such famously difficult magic."

Lyra had been debating whether or not to curtsy, or possibly hold out her hand for him to shake.

She did neither.

Instead, she crossed her own arms and met his scornful gaze coolly. "Professor Puff was more than satisfied with my performance of Madame Dacquoise's magic. And I used the Superior Sponge Spell for my third term exam. That's well beyond the normal first-year curriculum."

"Isn't that when you won the Stellar Enchantment Pin?" Lord Nougat boomed from across the semicircle.

"Her first Stellar Enchantment Pin," Master Chiffon corrected, indicating the two sparkling pins affixed to Lyra's hat. "The second was only one week ago, correct?"

Lyra smiled, though she didn't take her eyes from Master Dacquoise. "That's right."

"Oh yes, the second term exam," cut in Gâteau's unbearably elegant voice. "Caramelle gave us quite an account of last week's… spectacle."

"I gather we are to expect another such demonstration this morning?" Ganache asked.

Madame Citron clapped. "Oh, I do hope so!"

Master Dacquoise held Lyra's gaze for one more moment, his face seemingly carved into a permanent sneer. Then he shook his head and stalked over to a stool at the very center of the semicircle.

"Let us get on with it, Miss Treble. I am sure my fellow board members would agree that we have many important matters to discuss. Best not waste any more time with this 'spectacle' than necessary."

Lyra glanced at Master Chiffon. The Royal Chef for Texture gave her an encouraging smile, then turned to the assembled board.

"Since we are all rather keen, I do think we should allow Aspiring Baker Treble to start us off this morning. We can hear the reports of our Apprentice Bakers afterwards, as a follow-up. Agreed?"

Twelve academy board members nodded.

"Agreed!" Lord Nougat winked at Lyra. "Take us away, Aspiring Baker Treble."

For one terrible moment, Lyra's insides fell silent, frozen by the cold stares of Lord and Lady Meringue. She wasn't looking at Master Dacquoise, but she could still feel his perpetual sneer crawling over her mind, stifling any semblance of cheerful melody.

She forced herself to look at Rye, then at Madame Citron, then at Madame Patisserie. Each friendly face acted like a warming spark. By the time she got to Lord Nougat and Master Chiffon, sitting side-by-side at one end of the semicircle, the oven in her gut was shuddering into life again. Warmth, along with a faint chocolate-y scent, spread slowly to the tips of her fingers and fueled a fresh wave of inner musical joy.

Lyra let that chorus of delight spread itself across her face in a smile wide enough for the whole board.

"Let's bake a cake, shall we?" she asked.

She took her place behind the counter and started baking, the first verse of "All Gather Round" already pouring from her lips.

The 'Enjoyment Team' had debated long and hard about whether she should include any other spells in this demonstration. Professor Puff recommended performing all the spells from Lyra's original exam cake, with 'The Joy Song' added in. She thought it would be important for the board to see that Lyra was, indeed, competent in all three disciplines. Professor Honeycomb worried that this might muddy the effects of the Enjoyment magic, and recommended that Lyra incorporate only one or two of her most favorite traditional spells.

Professor Genoise kept insisting that Lyra needed to 'wipe that spoiled-sugar smirk off Palmier Dacquoise's underproofed face.' He advised her to perform the most advanced spell she was comfortable with in each discipline. With special emphasis on Madame Dacquoise's Superior Sponge Spell, of course.

Caramelle had agreed with Professor Puff, but all the other students shared Professor Genoise's view. Even Rye had expressed a keen desire to see Lyra deflate Palmier's dough a bit, not to mention the Meringues.

"They're all Texture snobs," he had said with a scowl of distaste. "If you can show them you're comfortable with Madame Dacquoise's magic, that'll crack their cakes a bit. Madame Bundt is a Texture master, too, so she'd probably be impressed."

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The argument was sound and full of well-balanced Flavors, though Lyra's heart had faltered a bit at the idea of performing the Superior Sponge Spell in such a pressured environment. Thankfully, Chef Flax had stepped in with an even better-balanced perspective.

"Honeycomb has a good point about the dangers of 'muddying,'" he had said, while Bumble nodded emphatically from his shoulder. "We want Enjoyment to be the star of the show. If Lyra performs any other spells, some of the board might attribute the Enjoyment magic to those spells. They would love to discredit the idea of a new discipline by claiming it is dependent on the other three."

"But what about discrediting Treble?" Professor Puff had objected. "Won't the new magic go over more smoothly if Treble first proves her abilities with the old magic?"

Chef Flax and Bumble shook their heads in vigorous unison. "However stodgy the opinions of some may be on Lyra's abilities as a bard-turned-baker, they cannot deny that she is a student at the academy. That fact alone proves her a capable baker in all three traditional disciplines. Bundt, at least, understands that, and she's the only one who really matters. Alas, we are not going to convince Palmier to get his head out of the flour bag any time soon."

He had then winked at Lyra. "I do look forward to seeing his face someday when you perform his distinguished ancestor's spells to delicious distinction… but one victory at a time."

With the memory of Bumble's chattered affirmation flowing smoothly into her internal 'baking fun' chorus, Lyra moved through the well-loved dance of this cake recipe. She sifted corn starch into flour while singing "All Gather Round," then whisked the 'cake flour' with baking powder, baking soda, and salt. "Dawn Chorus" took her through the process of creaming together butter and sugar, mixing in eggs and egg whites, and adding a generous dash of vanilla. The warmth flaring from her gut spiked as she sang "Table Tranquility," her mom's favorite, while alternating additions of the dry ingredients and buttermilk.

It was strange. Though Lyra never forgot the importance of the occasion, and though she was constantly aware of the fifteen other bakers watching her, she could not feel afraid. Not even the sharp sourness of Palmier Dacquoise's glare, with a noble Meringue on either side, could pop Lyra's joy-bubble.

Perhaps it was the warmth coursing through her, fueled by the encouraging smiles she knew she was receiving from various quarters. Perhaps it was the support of her friends and professors, absent but still tangible. Perhaps it was the delight of baking itself: the sheer fun of the thing, which had started her on this 'royal academy' menu to begin with.

Or perhaps it's just Enjoyment, she sang to herself, outwardly belting "Bubbles" and pouring cake batter into prepared tins. That's what this magic does. It cuts through all the stress and helps you just… enjoy baking.

So, Lyra enjoyed it.

She enjoyed singing "Skylark Symphony" while whipping heavy cream and cream cheese into a delectably light frosting. She enjoyed adding food coloring to the frosting and coating boysenberries with vanilla glaze to the tune of "Showtime." She especially enjoyed the assembly process, letting her brother's soulful "Stairways" composition guide her hand through all the coating, stacking, and piping.

At last, it was time for the main event.

Lyra did not let herself pause for even an instant. She could not afford a single glance upwards to gauge her audience's reaction. Keeping her whole focus on the nearly completed cake in front of her, she moved straight into "The Joy Song."

She was so engrossed in the tune and in the task of arranging glazed boysenberries that she missed the moment of the yellow light's appearance. Madame Citron's amazed shout was her first clue, followed swiftly by Master Chiffon's gasp and a hearty cheer from Lord Nougat. Only then did Lyra catch the familiar sparks in her peripheral vision.

Allowing herself one quick smile between the second chorus and bridge of "The Joy Song," she continued placing boysenberries.

The dome of magic expanded to contain Lyra and the cake, then immediately started shrinking. Lyra launched into the final chorus with a sigh of relief. Her one lingering fear had been that the yellow light would explode to 'pesto puff' levels of volume and strength. After all, she merely wanted to demonstrate Enjoyment, not send the esteemed board of the Royal Academy of Magical Baking into a helpless giggle fit.

She brought "The Joy Song" to a close just as the last yellow sparkles disappeared into one of the piped crimson flowers. Breathing in deeply, she let the last note hang in the air, hoping all the assembled bakers could feel the accompanying current of pure delight emanating from the cake. Then she exhaled, stepped back, and looked up.

Everything had gone as well as she could have hoped. Everything she had control over, at least. Now it was in the hands of the twelve most esteemed bakers in the kingdom.

Or, rather, one particularly cautious baker…

Lyra's next breath caught in her throat at the sudden thought of that crucial ninth vote. But before she could bring herself to look at Madame Bundt, Master Chiffon's voice rang out across the exam hall.

"Sweet and savory!" The elegant man rose from his stool, somehow applauding both wildly and with dignity. "A truly delectable display, Aspiring Baker Treble."

"Indeed," rumbled Lord Nougat, also rising to his feet. "All sweets to the victor, and may salt ever season your path!"

All nine of the other board members stood and joined in the applause. The scowl on the faces of Palmier Dacquoise and the Meringues would have curdled milk, but Lyra couldn't bring herself to care. She was too giddy at the sight of Madame Bundt, on her feet and smiling and clapping with genuine enthusiasm.

Master Chiffon let the applause go on for another full minute before raising his hand for silence.

"What say you, board members of the Royal Academy? Are we prepared to vote on the inclusion of Enjoyment as the fourth baking discipline?"

Bells began tolling in Lyra's brain, forming a truly sweet dissonance with the frantic sputtering of Palmier Dacquoise.

Then the quiet voice of Madame Bundt cut across the room, bringing both sounds to a grinding halt.

"Not yet, if you please, Master Chiffon."

It was Madame Citron's turn to sputter, turning to face her impassive neighbor. "Salts and sugar, Amaranth! The magic has manifested. In an incontrovertibly tangible manner. What more proof do you need?"

"The magic has manifested in one baker," Madame Bundt corrected her gently. Turning, she smiled at Lyra. "One distinctly gifted baker. You should be unequivocally proud of your accomplishments, Aspiring Baker Treble."

Lyra couldn't return the smile. She couldn't move at all. The sound vacuum created by the sudden disappearance of the bells seemed to have flash-frozen all of her senses, leaving her a silent statue.

Madame Bundt went on, smoothing an invisible wrinkle out of her blue apron. "As I said earlier, one distinctly gifted baker is not enough. A true baking disciple must be replicable. Am I correct in understanding that Aspiring Baker Treble is the only baker whose efforts have produced this yellow light?"

Lyra felt herself nodding.

"Then the discipline is not yet proven," Madame Bundt replied. "It must not depend on singular ability. When even one other baker has managed to manifest this magic, I shall be glad to vote for the incorporation of Enjoyment. But not before then."

Master Chiffon sighed. "As always, thank you for your wisdom, Madame Bundt."

"That's one word for it," Madame Citron muttered.

"Yes, thank you, Madame Bundt." Palmier Dacquoise bowed deeply in the Texturist's direction, then turned to Lyra. "And thank you, Aspiring Baker Treble. For your presence here today and for demonstrating Enjoyment in such a… singular fashion."

Lyra's gut twisted, briefly distorting all her inner melodies to the discordant tune of Master Dacquoise's ever-present sneer.