The Royal Academy of Magical Baking

Boysen was the first to recover the power of speech.

"What in the name of every seasoning are you doing here?" Boysen's voice was so low that neither Cardamom nor Professor Genoise heard him. The latter reappeared in the doorway just long enough to beam at the second-years.

"What a sweet surprise, is it not? I am late for the Monday morning conference with the first-years, but I look forward to checking back in here this afternoon and seeing how this bit of added zest has inspired our Enjoyment endeavors. May salt season your experimental paths!"

Then the Presentation headmaster was gone, leaving his former Apprentice Baker smiling dazzlingly at the Puff Paragons.

"I must say, it is grand to be back here," Cardamom said, gazing fondly around the practice kitchen. "I have missed this place."

"The feeling is entirely not mutual, I'm sure." Caramelle crossed her arms and tilted her head back, managing to look down her nose at the taller baker. "We've been getting along quite scrumptiously without you."

"That's right," Mac agreed. He was already standing between Caramelle and Boysen, so he just put a hand on each of their shoulders in solidarity. "And I believe Boysen asked you a question. Boysen, care to repeat?"

Boysen hadn't moved. The air around him was vibrating at such a tense frequency, Lyra marveled he could produce coherent words at all. "What are you doing here, Coulis?"

"It's like Genoise said," Cardamom replied, as smooth and gracious as Lyra remembered. "I heard about Enjoyment and wanted to help."

"How did you hear about it?" Boysen demanded, simultaneously with Caramelle's "From whom?"

Cardamom's smile twitched in amusement. "As I'm sure you know, Genoise recommended me for an internship at the palace after I graduated last year."

"We didn't know," Mac cut in.

"Indeed." Caramelle favored Mac with a radiant smile before turning back to Cardamom and switching to her sternest, most Professor Puff-esque glare. "We have had far more important ingredients to be aware of lately."

Cardamom inclined his head in a short bow. "Of course. But I am sure you are aware that the Royal Chefs are all in support of this Enjoyment endeavor. Madame Patisserie is no exception."

"Madame Patisserie?" Lyra repeated, annoyed with herself for taking so long to speak. It was like her throat's muscle memory instinctively froze up in the presence of cinnamon and honey. "You're interning with the Royal Chef of Presentation?"

Cardamom inclined his head again, a bit deeper this time. "The one and only. She instructed me to convey her regards to you especially, Aspiring Baker Treble."

"I'm still not following," Boysen said through gritted teeth. "Your boss supports Enjoyment. How does that lead to you being here?"

"Did Madame Patisserie send you?" Caramelle asked.

"I asked to be sent. When she agreed, I reached out to Professor Genoise."

Mac, Caramelle, and Boysen spoke as one. "Why?"

"Because it's new," Lyra said. Lyra couldn't glare down her nose so frigidly as Caramelle, but she still thought her tone sounded impressively cold as she went on, "And it's at the center of everyone's attention. It's going to be the biggest new thing in the baking world, so he has to be in on it. Whether he believes in it or not. Especially if all the Royal Chefs and elite bakers are there."

She forced herself to look the royal Presentation intern straight in his dark, bewitchingly expressive eyes. "Anything to establish the Coulis name, right?"

Those eyes flickered with a most uncharacteristic emotion. If Lyra didn't know better, she might have thought 'The Coulis' was… embarrassed.

"You have every right to assign me such a narrow motive." Like his eyes, Cardamom's voice was laced with that strange new ingredient. "You in particular, Lyra. I have given you plenty of reasons to think poorly of me. I can offer no excuses for my treatment of you last year. Clearly, I was wrong about your musical approach to baking… and about you."

Caramelle stepped in front of Lyra, the air around her vibrating at a frequency nearly as intense as Boysen's. "Then why come back? If you admit that you've acted like a sack of spoiled sugar, wouldn't it be the decent thing to stay away and leave us all in peace?"

"Wouldn't it be more decent to make amends?" Cardamom countered.

Boysen laughed a bitter, un-Boysen-ish laugh that grated on Lyra's ears. "Salts, Coulis. You expect us to believe you've changed? Just like that?"

"I do not expect you to believe anything, Berry. Nor did I come here to be put on trial." Cardamom's dark eyes flashed for one moment before he sighed, any rising anger subsumed by that new foreign flicker in his expression. "I came to apologize to Lyra for my behavior last year and to offer my services to the cause of Enjoyment. Whether either is accepted is not up to me. But I hope you can all remember the pressure of the academy, especially for third-year students, and reflect on our interactions last year in that light."

"I thought you said you could offer no excuses," Boysen shot back.

"Not an excuse." Cardamom's gaze was still fixed on Lyra. "An explanation. To provide a more… conciliatory Flavor to our memories of last year. And, hopefully, make it easier for us to move forward." He swept his sorrowful eyes over the other three second-years. "Isn't that the point of what you're all trying to do here? To move forward, unhindered by toxic history? To prove that baking is more about the future than about the past?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Baking is about the present," Lyra said quietly. "It's about making things for people to eat. To enjoy. And it's about enjoying the process."

Cardamom's whole face lit up with eagerness. "Yes! That's what I've been learning at the palace this year. Madame Patisserie… she has helped me see that it's not just about preserving things. I've been so focused on trying to make something that will last, but that's not always the point, right? Sometimes, it's about creating an experience to be shared. That's the key to being a Royal Chef. That is the definition of true baking success. So, when I heard about your Enjoyment endeavors, I thought… what better way to put my new philosophy into action?"

"I knew it." Boysen shook his head. "It's not about helping us, really. It's like Lyra said. You just see where the baking world menu is headed, and you want to get in on the first course."

"I do want to help," Cardamom insisted. "And I think I can. Lyra knows about my experience with experimentation. She's witnessed it firsthand. Professor Genoise said you've been blocked, yes? I know what that is like, believe me. I have spent years finding new angles from which to approach baking problems. When the experiment keeps hitting a wall, the best ingredient is a fresh perspective."

"He's right."

Boysen, Caramelle, and Mac all turned to look at Lyra.

"What?" Boysen asked.

"He's right," she repeated. "We are blocked. And we're running out of time. We have one more term to get the board's support. One more term to show Madame Bundt and everyone that Enjoyment is a true baking discipline. And to do that, we have to demonstrate that it's not just… me. The magic has to manifest for someone else."

"That's what these Monday and Friday sessions are for." Boysen pointed to Mac's drawing of the four mixing bowls, still displayed proudly on the wall by the door. "The magic is growing. The potential is gathering in the air. Do you think the yellow light would have appeared at all if we hadn't been in here all last term, practicing?"

Caramelle nodded thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of that. All that repetition did have an effect, didn't it?"

"I'm sure it did. But it also just about ran us into the ground," Lyra reminded them. "Those last few weeks before the yellow light appeared were pretty miserable. Do we really want to just pick right back up where we left off? Sing 'The Joy Song' over and over until it has no joy left?"

"No," Mac said glumly.

"Me neither." Lyra looked around the practice kitchen a little helplessly. "But I don't know where to go from here."

"We can figure it out. We'll make it work," Boysen assured her. "We don't need him."

"Maybe we don't. And maybe we do." Lyra held his gaze, but kept her voice loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room, especially the dashing Presentation expert by the door. "I don't want to miss out on a potential menu-changer, especially not when we're so close. We can't let personal feelings, painful or pleasant, get in the way. Enjoyment is the priority, right?"

The air around Boysen was swirling with another round of arguments. But before he could voice any of them, Caramelle sighed.

"Lyra has a point."

Mac glanced at Boysen. "Caramelle —"

"Listen." She leaned in, drawing them all into a huddle. "None of us have any new ideas about how to approach this final obstacle, correct? Then it would be irresponsible of us to deny any avenue of investigation. Particularly one so trusted by Professor Genoise."

"Professor Genoise doesn't know what he's really like," Mac objected, shooting a venomous glare over his shoulder at Cardamom.

"Neither do we," Caramelle pointed out. "Not anymore. It's been a long time, and he's been working with Madame Patisserie. I don't know her terribly well, but Master Chiffon always speaks highly of her."

"I met her at the board meeting." Lyra closed her eyes, remembering the soft power of the Presentation Royal Chef's voice. "She strikes me as a… strong influence."

"Indeed. Not a baker one could be around for any length of time without learning. Without growing." Caramelle sighed again. "And let us not forget what he said about pressure. I myself can attest to its rotten effects. Where would I be if you all hadn't given me a second chance?"

Lyra smiled at her. "Where would any of us be?"

Mac took Caramelle's hand and squeezed it. His eyes were solemn behind his glasses as he said, "If Professor Genoise trusts him… I guess we can give it a try. As long as we can all look out for each other along the way."

"I'm not saying we need to be best friends with him," Caramelle went on. "But I do believe we should think carefully before turning away such a timely offer of assistance."

"Exactly." Lyra dropped her voice to a whisper. "That's what I'm saying. We can't get distracted, no matter what we feel or how we think about him. It's not about him at all, or any of us. It's about Enjoyment. It's about baking. And we need all the help we can get, so… let's use it. Agreed?"

She had been keeping her eyes on Boysen, so she saw the exact moment when the shift occurred.

His eyes hardened. It reminded her of when the curtain closed at the end of one of Thespy's shows, cutting her off from all the light and life of the onstage world. Even the air around him suddenly stopped swirling and… condensed, like a lump of dough that's been kneaded one time too many.

Or overmixed cake batter, Lyra thought, with a sense of rising panic. After the air bubbles have collapsed…

"Fine," Boysen said.

She blinked. "Fine?"

"Fine as confectioner's sugar." Turning abruptly from the huddle, he rolled his shoulders and shook out his hands in his normal pre-baking ritual. "Let's get to work. Any ideas on how we should begin, Coulis?"

Cardamom smiled. Pulling up a stool, he settled onto it, careful not to wrinkle his crisp purple 'Presentation Master' apron.

"I think it would be best if you all recounted your efforts thus far. Madame Patisserie told me about the board meeting, and Professor Genoise gave me a brief summary of your experiments in first and second terms, but I need more details if I am to contribute effectively."

"Very thorough. Puff would be proud." Boysen strode to one of the workstations by the far wall and began pulling out bowls and measuring cups. "You three can fill him in. I'll get started on the practical end."

"What are you making?" Mac asked.

"One of the new recipes I brought back from my brothers' restaurant. I'm curious about the impact of 'The Joy Song' versus Chef Flax's proto-spell."

Lyra watched Boysen prep the workstation. Something about the silent efficiency of his movements was giving her a headache. It was like the sudden stillness of the air around him had created a sound vacuum in her own mind, pulsing its heavy quiet through all her internal melodies.

She swallowed. "What's the recipe? Is it from Cran or Straw?"

"Not important." He waved a hand dismissively, keeping his eyes on the flour he was measuring into a small bowl. "I'll report my findings later. You'd best get on with the scientific storytelling, right?"

She watched him for a few more seconds, but he didn't look up.

"Right," she said, her voice sounding very small. Then she joined Caramelle and Mac, pulling up stools to Cardamom's counter for some 'scientific storytelling,' wondering how she'd be able to hear anything over the horrible stillness spreading through her insides.

I don't know what's going to happen when it reaches my 'heart-kitchen,' she thought, forcing herself NOT to look back at Boysen's busy workstation. But I doubt it'll be… Enjoyable.