Ah, sweet relief. The heat was still there, but it was getting better by the second.
It was at that moment that Keir opened the door. “Charlotte? You’ll never guess who I saw in Fossholm—what in name of the Gods happened here?”
For a moment, Charlotte saw the scene through her brother’s eyes. She could picture herself, tears running down her cheeks, milk running from the corners of her mouth, her silver hair and fair skin dusted in cocoa powder along with half of the kitchen, clouds of flour eddying in her wake, every bowl and utensil coated in dark goo.
And all around them, the faint smell of burning.
“Oh no! The second batch!”
Charlotte reached for the oven in such a panic she forgot the oven mitt.
“The mitt!” Keir yelled just in time as smoke began to pour from the oven.
Charlotte grabbed the tray of burning brownies with one mitted hand, threw open the door with the other, and tossed the burnt brownies into the snowbank just outside.
“Ah,” she sighed in relief as leaned against the door, safely inside the kitchen once more. “I didn’t burn the house down.”
“You didn’t burn the…” Keir started, his head shaking in disbelief. “Isn’t it your day off?”
“Well, yes,” said Charlotte. It was funny how that look of his—those furrowed brows, the set of his strong jaw—brought her right back to childhood. Right back to wanting to lie and make up excuses to avoid his fury.
Well, not his fury. Keir had never really gotten angry with her. He often told her that he would, but he never did. She’d only realized it lately—his threats had been empty. They were only to save her from a far worse punishment that awaited her if their father found out.
But this Keir—the grown up one, the one she’d lived with for a few months since their reunion—was not unreasonable. There was nothing to fear from him.
“I wanted to surprise Mrs. Knox. I found something in one of the books you have in there on the ancient people of Anahuac.” She gestured to the bookshelf in the living room. She recalled Keir’s surprise when he learned that she’d developed a love of reading in her time with the korrigans; Nolwynn had been very insistent on all of the children receiving an education. “The people of Anahuac cultivated chocolate originally, and they often served it with chilies like the ones you grow in your garden. I’vetried adding your chili powder to Mrs. Knox’s brownie recipe, but I can’t quite get the amount right. I’m close though.”
Charlotte went to the hand-written recipe on the table—it was blotched with butter—and crossed out “1 tbsp” next to “chili powder.”Too much, she scribbled in the margin. (Above it, “1/8 tsp” had been crossed out as well, withToo littlewritten beside it.)
“I’ll clean it all up, I promise,” added Charlotte when she looked up into Keir’s frowning face.
Shortly after Keir and the others had left for their trip to Loegria, Charlotte had been in town fetching tea from the market when she’d spotted a sign in the window of Mrs. Knox’s bakery:HELP WANTED.
Charlotte had stopped by many times already since her return, and Mrs. Knox had remembered her right away. She’d served Charlotte with her favorite biscuits and listened to her stories of life with the korrigans, never once asking why she had run away. When Charlotte went in to ask about the sign, Mrs. Knox hired her as her apprentice on the spot.
Keir moved cautiously into the kitchen, trying to avoid piles of loose sugar. “Can I try one at least?”
Charlotte smiled mischievously. There was still milk left in the jug. “Go on,” she said.
Keir cut a middle piece from the tray of brownies on the counter—the tray that didn’t get chucked out into the snow—and took a bite.
“Mm. That’s really good,” he said. His brows lifted in pleasant surprise. “I can’t taste the heat—oh, there it is. Oh. OH. OW.”
He began to fan his tongue exactly the same way Charlotte had minutes before.
“Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow ow OWWWW!”
Charlotte pushed the jug of milk into his outstretched hand. Keir knocked it back far more neatly than Charlotte had done, but with no less enthusiasm.
“Why didn’t you warn me?” Keir asked once most of the red had drained from his face.
Charlotte was doubled over laughing. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. Too hot?” she asked, feigning innocence.
Keir rolled his eyes and shoved the milk jug back at her, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “How much pepper did you use?”
“A tablespoon.”
“Are you mad?”
