“But, I have no idea who I am,” Lila admitted. “The idea of just being…me, well, it frightens me.”
I dipped the heart-shaped cookies in sugar, some more symmetrical than others, then placed them in the oven. “Maybe it’s not about finding out who you are, but creating who you want to be. You’ll figure it out. You have as much time as you need.Try something new every day. I’m sure you’ll find out who this beautiful Lila is.”
Lila giggled. “I have always liked to imagine wild stories and write them down. I had a whole pile of notebooks filled with stories piled up at home. I’m sure mother has thrown them all in the fire by now. She always told me to keep my head in the present and stop fantasizing about things that will never come to pass.”
I winced. “Your mother was a real treat.”
“Yep.”
The smell of warm sugar cookies filled the kitchen, and I sighed.
“Well,” I offered, a warmth filling my heart, “I hope these sugar cookies will help you reconnect with who you are.”
Lila offered a smile, then sat back on the stool and asked, “So, how was your morning? How’d the first delivery go?”
Heat flushed my cheeks as my mind filled with the horrific bacon-eating extravaganza.
“It was so bad!” I groaned.
Lila perked up, grasping my hands in hers. “Tell me everything.”
Three sugar cookies each and a vat of apple cider later, Lila left. She seemed eager to rediscover herself, so I wished her the best. Rafia and I took stock of all the repairs we’d need to get this kitchen up to standard when Gale and Isola swept in with a message from the king.
“The rolls were not as ordered. Fifty more cinnamon rolls tomorrow. Do not disappoint me again.” Isola read with green eyebrows knit in worry.
That was it? That was the note? Was it the lack of cardamom and nutmeg? Was it the ginger? “Did he say anything else?”
“No, ma’am,” Gale said in his surprisingly soft voice.
“Best not to fret too much about it.” Rafia assured me. “Nothing we can do but try again.”
But I didn’t miss the worried look the two exchanged when they thought I wasn’t looking. I failed. I couldn’t fail again or what? “Rafia, what happens to humans who don’t do what they were brought to do?”
“You’ll be fine, Miss.” Rafia offered, her smile slipping.
“You didn’t answer my question.” I shot a glare at Rafia that I hoped conveyed my complete lack of understanding. I knew nothing of this strange, magical place.
“Things are changing around here, Miss.” Rafia’s magenta eyes grew dark. “The king needs things to be as expected. He’s under a lot of pressure.”
“Well, so am I!” I growled. “Isola, Gale, can you go find Jacob? The human carpenter that came with me?” I prayed he could help fix some of my broken things in my kitchen. “And Rafia, please take me to the gardener.”
Isola and Gale left together in a blur of forest green. Rafia bowed to me, then led the way out of the kitchen and into the fresh afternoon air of Elkhaven to find this mysterious handsome gardener I’d heard so much about. I needed some more supplies.
8
THE GARDENER
Rafia led me through the dew-lined gardens of the king to find the gardener. I had some ingredients to hunt down. Plump blueberries bloomed next to raspberries and strawberries in the chill autumnal air. Mint leaves spilled from planter boxes while basil and thyme puffed up in great domes. Apple trees grew round red fruit next to loping vines of grapes.
Back home, we covered our gardens in cloth to protect them from the ice storms and snow that were on the way. Here, only a crisp breeze reminded me I was not in an eternal summer.
We came upon a small cottage of brick and plaster surrounded by pumpkin and zucchini patches. The thatched roof swirled up at an impossible angle. The wooden ginger-breading detail curved delicately with the lines of the tall hut. Two fires puffed smoke into the air from tall chimneys made from a black stone.
“The gardener’s hut, Miss.” Rafia smiled.
The sound of a voice muffled out from inside the hut, followed by another. The gardener was not alone.
Rafia knocked on the door. A deep grumbling sounded from within and the tinkle of glass jars jangled as someone made their way to the door. The cracked wooden door opened to expose a tall, lean, blue-haired elf male. He was classically handsome in an academic way. He wore thin glasses and hair in a low ponytail, cobalt blue hair falling down the center of his back.
