I didn’t miss baking as much as thought I would. Without realizing it, Gabe had quietly settled into the empty spaces of my days, as though he had always belonged beside me in thekitchen. Even the strange emotional connection between us had become something I was gradually learning to accommodate, though it still left me with an exhausting assortment of feelings that never seemed entirely my own.
I looked around for the recipe book, but it wasn’t in its usual cabinet. My brow furrowed. That was strange. Grandmother no longer baked with magic, which left only one likely culprit.
“Nutmeg?” I called. “Did you move my recipe book?”
She peeked cautiously from behind the sugar jar and tentatively shook her head. I frowned. My ember sprite had little reason to lie to me in matters unrelated to stolen sugar or her attempts to sample cooling pastries before they were ready. Yet for reasons I couldn’t explain, I remained unconvinced.
“Then have you seen it? I can’t seem find it anywhere.”
Her gaze darted towards Gabe—who had gone still—before once more shaking her head with almost frantic enthusiasm, an emotion too out of place for me to have accurately deciphered.
I nibbled my lip and studied her carefully, searching for some clue hidden within her expression. Surely guilt must reveal itself somehow. However, the longer I searched, the more the familiar tension pulsed behind my temples. Lately every attempt to untangle emotions left me more exhausted than kneading dough for hours, and with Gabe’s feelings continually brushing against my own through the enchantment, the effort only seemed to grow more taxing.
“Are you certain you didn’t move it?” I asked again, though I couldn’t imagine what possible use an ember sprite would have for an enchanted recipe book.
Nutmeg released an indignant shower of sparks before vigorously shaking herself once more. I’d clearly accused her unfairly, though whether she was offended, annoyed, or simply exasperated by my lack of trust, I couldn't confidently determine.
The puzzle left me exhausted. I pressed my fingers to my aching forehead until another sensation quietly prodded my attention—it settled heavily in my chest, taut and uncomfortable, carrying with it the unmistakable impression that something precious stood on the verge of being lost.
I glanced towards Gabe curiously, wondering if the feeling came from him. His jaw had tightened almost imperceptibly, and though his expression remained carefully composed, I could feel his silent wrestle echoing through the invisible thread connecting us.
“What is this feeling?” I asked.
He hesitated. “It’s…” His voice faltered before he lowered his eyes. “I’m just worried.”
While I was no expert in emotions, the answer didn’t seem entirely truthful. And yet…I couldn’t tell for certain. I looked back and forth between Nutmeg and Gabe.
Something had quietly passed between them, some shared understanding that remained entirely beyond my reach. They weren’t speaking, yet they seemed to understand one another perfectly, leaving me standing just outside whatever invisible conversation had taken place. I was used to a lonely existence, but something about the pact between these two, a bond that didn’t include me, made me unhappy.
I pushed past the barrier I’d willingly erected over my emotions and reached for that understanding with all the determination I normally reserved for solving an unfamiliar map. Instead, I found only another unfamiliar feeling rising quietly within my own heart.
It wasn’t sharp like anger, nor heavy like grief. It felt smaller than either of those, yet somehow more uncomfortable. Like standing outside a warmly lit bakery on a winter evening, able to see the laughter within while remaining on the other side of theglass. The feeling tightened unexpectedly. For the first time in years, I realized I didn’t want to be left outside.
Was this…frustration? Or was it something else entirely? The thought unsettled me almost as much as the feeling itself. Ever since the tracking tart had bound Gabe and me together, emotions I had believed forever sacrificed seemed to be quietly returning, slipping through cracks I hadn’t realized existed in the walls I’d so carefully built around my heart.
The enchantment had allowed me to borrow Gabe’s emotions, but even with his feelings brushing against mine, I still couldn't understand them. The realization left me feeling strangely…small, like a child staring at a map she could no longer read.
Worse still, I found myself wishing I understood—not for my own sake, but because I suddenly disliked appearing so hopelessly lost whenever Gabe was nearby. That, perhaps more than any emotion I’d rediscovered so far, frightened me most.
A dull ache continued to pulse behind my temples, growing stronger the longer unfamiliar emotions crowded my thoughts. I leaned one hand against the counter and closed my eyes for a moment, releasing a slow breath.
Ever since the enchantment had bound Gabe and me together, my heart no longer felt like the quiet, orderly pantry it had become over the years. Instead it resembled a kitchen during the busiest festival of the year, every shelf overturned and every ingredient demanding my attention at once. No wonder my head hurt.
“Are you alright?” Gabe asked.
“Of course.” The words emerged sharper than I intended, carrying an edge I scarcely recognized as my own voice.
He studied me with growing concern. “You don’t sound fine.”
Nutmeg bobbed emphatically in agreement, showering the air with tiny approving sparks. The sight only deepened theunpleasant sensation tightening inside me. The two of them seemed to have formed their own quiet alliance, exchanging glances and understanding one another with effortless ease while I remained hopelessly behind. The feeling reminded me of biting into what appeared to be a chocolate chip cookie only to discover someone had filled it with raisins instead.
Gabe frowned, but his look had gentled. “You seem frustrated.”
“I’m not frustrated.”
The denial escaped before I remembered the unfortunate reality that he could feel everything stirring inside me. If anyone knew whether I was frustrated, it was almost certainly Gabe. The realization tightened something deep inside my chest.
“This is all your fault,” I snapped before I could stop myself. “Until you arrived, I never had to deal with these…these pesky emotions that refuse to leave me alone.” The words hung between us.
