I smiled. “Why is that?”
Elden’s answering smile caused my heart to flutter quite on its own, soaring through the tall trees and into the night. “An elf and a human on an undercover mission to save the realm? It is just the kind of story my father loved. Dangerous tasks and forbidden love?—”
Elden’s golden eyes flicked up to meet mine and my heart flew out into the atmosphere of space as if my magic truly did reach to the stars.
Forbidden love?I breathed through a constricted throat.
Elden’s eyes lingered on mine, searching for something. The intensity of his warm gaze causing my insides to go as molten as the gold flecks in his eyes. I broke the trance, glancing down at my feet.
“They are only stories,” Elden said roughly through the flickering flames the fire cast onto the walls of the Dragonfly Room. “Nothing more than dreams, after all.”
“Yes, only in dreams,” I whispered, though my eyes remained on the safety of my bare toes.
Elden cleared his throat. “Shall I meet you in the kitchens then?”
“Yes, of course.” I blinked, trying to clear the buzzing in my ears and the flush in my cheeks. “Have a nice bath.”
Have a nice bath?I groaned at my stupidity, slipped on my shoes, then grabbed my satchel housing Jel’s potion, my cookbook and magic spoon, and stepped out into the enchanted night. The sun had fallen beneath the trees and dusk was upon us. I had a good hour before the party to learn how to make thosecaramels from Tabitha. Armed with the first two pillars of magic, it was time to see if I could awaken this magic within me, on purpose this time.
I found Tabitha elbows deep in dish soap in the main tree’s kitchens.
“Let me help you with that.” I pushed up my sleeves and made my way to the sink. Washing dishes was a familiar task I wouldn’t mind getting lost in. It was definitely a better alternative to getting lost in Elden’s molten eyes again.
Tabitha swatted at my offered hands, “You’ll do no such thing!” Her cheeks flushed as if I’d insulted her.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m just used to working in a kitchen. Baking.” I offered as soon as I realized my mistake. The elves had such pride in their work. “You run such a lovely inn.”
Tabitha seemed to warm to my words, so I continued, “Your caramels are incredible. I’ve never had anything like them.”
Tabitha smiled. “Old family recipe, but I’m always willing to teach what I know to a fellow baker.”
She was willing to teach me? I squealed inwardly with delight.
“I’m about to mix my next batch for the party tonight. How about we make a deal?” Tabitha scrutinized me with discerning eyes.
“Yes?” I asked, worried I wouldn’t meet whatever expectations she had of me.
“You help me with my caramels,”—Tabitha bounced one of my dark blue curls—“and I’ll help you with your hair.”
I blew out a breath of relief and gestured to my mess of curls. “Your help would be most welcome.”
“That’s settled then.” Tabitha handed me an apron, then brought out a giant tub of butter. “Be a dear and hand me that sugar. We’ll need both white and brown.”
Tabitha was pleased to find me both a practiced and eager student as we measured pecans and poured syrups. She completed all of her measurements by feel and sight, so I followed after and measured with spoons, cups, and a scale. I took copious notes of every action, drawing pictures in my recipe book as we went. My drawings were a bit rounder and lighter than my father’s, but this recipe belonged in here beside his. It felt right. It felt good. My recipe book resembled Jel’s spellbook more and more.
I tried to focus on the two pillars of magic, intent and touch. Touch seemed easy because handling the ingredients was part of the job. But what was my intent? To make caramels for the newly married couple? With all of my feelings swirling around Elden, I could barely focus on any kind of true intent of anything. He said I needed to force my will, but I didn’t truly know what my will was.
We melted the sugars, cream, and heap of butter, filling the kitchen with warm comfort. We stirred the mixture until the sugar dissolved, then brought it to a boil. More cream was added, then we got to the tricky part.
“If we overcook it, the candy will harden too much,” Tabitha explained. “So we’ll run a few sugar stage tests.”
Like Jel, Tabitha used science, experiments, to get the right outcome. Once the mixture had boiled for a few minutes, Tabitha collected a small ball and dropped it into a bowl of water. It formed a soft, flexible ball.
“Almost there.” Tabitha said.
I watched the sugars, butter, and cream boil with bated breath.
“That should do it.” Tabitha exclaimed as she dropped another scoop of mixture into the cool water. She pulled it out and stretched the ball. “See here, it holds its shape, but is still a little pliable. It’s ready.”
