Sass took the bag and peered inside. “Two? You only got two?”
Vaskel didn’t meet her gaze. “I might have been waylaid by some folks.”
Sass held up a hand. “I do not want to hear that someone else ate sweet rolls intended for my belly.” She inhaled deeply. “Do I smell orange?”
“They’re orange spice sweet rolls,” Vaskel said. “Pip’s new creation.”
Lira slumped over, folding her arms on the table and resting her head on them. “See? Pip can create new recipes, and I’ll bet they’re perfect.”
Sass wasn’t able to reply because her mouth was already filled with orange, yeasty goodness, so she attempted to frown and shake her head. Finally, she managed, “‘Orrible.”
Lira narrowed her eyes, sitting up and snatching the last remaining roll from the bag. She took a bite and her eyesfluttered shut as she moaned. “They’re amazing. If I wasn’t marrying Korl, I’d marry these.” Then she heaved out a frustrated sigh and stomped back toward the kitchen, the half-doors swinging violently in her wake.
Sass caught Vaskel's eye as she swallowed the rest of her roll and lowered her voice. “Why obsess over creating a new recipe now?”
Vaskel understood all too well the urge to control what you could when bigger things felt overwhelming. “I’ll talk to her.”
Sass licked the sugary glaze off her fingers. "Good luck to you.”
When Vaskel pushed through the swinging doors, he found more flour covering more surfaces and Crumpet and his raccoon friend forming an assembly line to move sad, pale cookies from the baking pan into the trash.
"Want to talk about it?" Vaskel asked, sliding a three-legged stool up to the massive central worktable.
"What's there to talk about?” She didn’t meet his eyes. “Baking is supposed to be what calms me, but it can’t even do that anymore.”
“Is this really about baking?” Vaskel said lightly. "Come on, Lira. What's really bothering you?"
She was quiet for a long moment, absently brushing flour from her apron. "What if it's a mistake?"
“The cookies?” Vaskel teased. “I think those were definitely a mistake.”
That earned him a dishtowel tossed in his direction, which he snagged deftly from the air. Crumpet chittered, hurling a loosecookie crumb at him. The winged creature might not have liked the cookies, but he was still defensive of Lira.
“Not the awful cookies.” Lira leaned against the table and crossed her arms over her chest. “The wedding.”
“You think marrying Korl is a mistake?” Vaskel's eyebrows rose. "The orc who rebuilt your oven, fixed your roof, and looks at you like you hung the moon and stars?"
A smile tugged at the corners of Lira’s mouth. “When you put it like that..."
"Lira." He leaned forward, his voice gentling. "Tell me one thing. When you think about waking up next to Korl every morning for the rest of your life, how do you feel?"
A satisfied sigh escaped her lips despite herself. "Safe. Happy. Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
"Then what's the problem? The runaway wedding? The gnome haberdasher who’s nominated himself wedding planner?”
“Yes, no, oh, I don't know.” She threw her hands up, and loose flour sifted down onto her hair. “All the wedding fuss has reminded me that this is a big deal, and a permanent one. After years of running with our crew, never staying in one place, never letting anyone get too close..."
"You're scared," Vaskel said simply.
"Terrified," she admitted.
He laughed, surprising her. "Good. If you weren't scared about such a big life change, I'd be worried. But Lira, I've watched you face down wraiths, negotiate with goblins, and build a life here from nothing. You can handle being happy."
She rubbed her arms, as if the kitchen wasn’t overly warm from the oven. “Sometimes I’m not sure I deserve this much happiness.”
Vaskel felt that right in his gut. “I get that. I do. But if anyone has earned a happily ever after, it’s you. You came back to your home, you faced the pain of rebuilding a life without the person who’d made Wayside so special, and you made this town a place that even your wayward friends could call home.”
Her eyes shone as she smiled at him.
