A very fit Elf stares at me with a frown that puts Lucillus’s to shame – she probably got both genes for angry glares, unlike her cousin with his measly scowls. This woman has a cute pink apron covering her in the front, on top of a medieval chef attire. But if she didn’t have that, she could have easily given a military general a run for their money.

"Do you know what Crème Brûlée is?"

She slowly takes out a massive wooden spoon from a pocket in her apron and starts tapping her other hand with it.

“Do you want me to go to prison again?” she asks her cousin.

“This guy says he’s a baker and that he’s good, Clodia. I don’t know how he got here, but he’s one of those classless weirdos and needs a job. He currently doesn’t have a penny. And you always complain to Aunt Marcella that you don’t have enough good workers. Take out your truth-stone and try him.”

She doesn’t bother replying to her cousin and just stares at me after taking out a truth-stone from her pink apron.

"What? I just asked a question," I say, confused.

"You are making up names of foods and you expect me to hire you? Do you really want to climb that tree?"

First of all, I don't climb any trees, lady. Second of all, I'm not saying this to your face because you might smother me to death. Which I might like, obviously.

Forgive me, Elven God, for all the horny thoughts I'm having, and for all those I'll have in the near future. Praise your benevolence, pointy ears, and generous chests.

"Crème Brûlée is a real thing, I swear," I say, clearing my voice.

When the truth-stone flashes green, Clodia slowly puts the big wooden spoon away, quenching some of the dirty fantasies that had been forming in my mind.

"What is a crème parlée?"

“Brulée. You take some custard and caramelize the sugar on top with a flame.”

“Caramelize?” she raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, caramelize the sugar. I mean, it's just some caramel, right?" As I see her confused face, I try explaining myself better. "Heat the sugar so much it becomes liquid?”

She grabs me by my shirt and starts dragging me to the baking lab, leaving both Antoninus and Lucillus behind.

…

"Hey, how you doin'?" I smile at a few female Elves who throw glances in our direction.

"Don't bother my employees," Clodia growls from behind me as I get a quick tour of the place.

"So, Clodia, is a beautiful woman like you single by any chan—"

“What kind of baking can you do, exactly? I'm sure my cousin barely mentioned what we specialize in,” she interrupts me ruthlessly.

Well, she's a bit rude. But once you get over the fact that she’s probably stronger and taller than me, she's still smoking hot. Actually, she's probably hotter because of that.

“I’m specialized in cakes, frosting, and decorating. I can also make bread easily. I make savory pastries, like sugarless croissants, and prepare a good filling that will make the pastries fly off the shelves. I can also make a wide range of confectionery, handmade candy, chocolate, etc. The only problem is that I’m not from anywhere close to Amorium, and I may need a day or two to adjust to your ingredients.”

The truth-stone flashes green again.

“Honest, at least. I don’t know what some of those things are anyway. What is choco—is that a spellbook?”

“Yeah, trying to learn how to spit fire or something to incorporate it in my desserts.”

"No uncontrolled magic in my bakery," she stares hard at me.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Sure thing, boss," I smile.

"You are not my employee yet, Human."

Well, all things in due time, am I right?

By the way, as Lucillus mentioned, all the employees are indeed women, which makes this the best working environment possible—or the absolute worst. In any case, I can't really be picky if the other place requires me to have a class.

The employees are all wearing pink aprons like Clodia.

Their baking lab is pretty big, with a bunch of huge metallic and wooden containers. I see 'inscriptions,' or what these Elves call 'enchantments,' dotted across most of them. Maybe they use them for cooling. Or preservation. Who knows?

Clodia basically drags me to a pan on a stove, handing me a bowl full of sugar. There's a bunch of symbols on the stove.

"[Kitchen: Preheat]," she says, and I see the pan heat up instantly, even though she is just placing it on the stove now.

"That's neat," I try a smile, but she's still giving me the Sergeant Hartman treatment.

"Show me what this 'caramelizing' looks like," she quips.

"Sure thing."

I put a hand over the pan, feeling that the heat is indeed quite high already. I pour in half of the bowl and look around for some tools.

"Do you have metal whisks?"

"Sure," she puts her hand in a small bag by her side and takes out a big metal whisk.

I look twice at the bag, completely stunned. There's no way that can fit in there.

"Is that magic?" I point at the bag, confused.

"You have never seen a bag of holding? Maybe you know them by their Vanedeni name? A Bricolla?"

First of all, Bricolla sounds like an Italian word. That's very suspicious if you ask me. Second, who are these 'Vanedeni'?

"Nope. But that's cool. Anyway," I start stirring the sugar, and in a few minutes, it starts caramelizing.

It's insanely interesting how such a simple thing has never been attempted before. It's quite literally putting sugar in a pan and heating it up. Although, I suppose... well, I don't actually suppose much. Believe it or not, I don't know Jack about Medieval baking. Nor do I know Rose, for what matters.

Anyway.

The actual caramelizing process is quite straightforward. Honestly, it's quite BORING.

I mean, it's not like I was expecting some great show or anything, but it really is just me standing here stirring sugar in a pan.

"Is that all you have to do?" she nudges me with the massive wooden spoon.

"Yep, just gotta be patient."

I keep slowly stirring the sugar, raising the pan at times to avoid burning it. It's a bit of a dance, really. I take the pan off the heat whenever it starts getting too hot, and put it back on when it's too low. After what seems like hours—but is probably only minutes—it finally happens; the sugar has turned to caramel.

"There you go, boss."

Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees it.

"You simply heat up sugar, and it becomes 'caramel.' You can also add spices to it and do a bunch of different stuff with it. The only problem is that when you let it cool down, it becomes extremely hard but fragile, like glass. So, you can't really pour it over a cake from the pan because it will quite literally punch through the spongy/creamy layers."

"Hm," Clodia frowns when I say that.

"But, what you can do is you cut it with something or simply keep it in a warm bowl. You can add it in its liquid form to something in order to give it a caramel taste, and then use that as a topping. I mean, you can really caramelize whatever. And as long as you keep it decently warm, it does retain some of its liquidity. You just have to be mindful of its properties. Plus, at the end of the day, it's still sugar. Baking goes beyond simply adding more sugar to stuff."

"You really know your baking," Clodia comments, clearly impressed.

She stares at the liquid caramel, enraptured.

“I didn’t know sugar could do that,” she says, whispering.

“No one ever tried, huh? You have a bakery, magic bags, and God knows what, and no one had ever thought of caramel? Woman, we can become rich with this simple trick alone; up top!”

I raise my five, but she looks at me confused.

“You slap the hand with yours, like that.”

I high-five myself, and then we try again.

She almost breaks my hand, shoulder—no, the entire arm.

Also, it kind of turned me on, to be fair. I fancy me a strong girl. And even though Officer Lucinda is my biggest crush at the moment, it’s not like we are married—well, not yet.

“What’s your name again?”

Apparently, now she wants to know.

“Joey Luciani, miss Clodia.”

“Weird name,” she shrugs and goes for a handshake. “And it’s ‘Chef Clodia’ for you.”

To be honest, I’m a bit hesitant to shake her hand, considering that she almost broke mine with the previous high-five. But I do wonder what this beautiful woman can do to a man in bed.

I grin like an idiot while she mauls my hand.

And with that, my stomach growls. Clodia looks down at my stomach and then back up at my face.

“When was the last time you ate?” she asks.

“I had a couple of bites last night, but that’s it.”

"We will sort you out immediately, then. Just answer this question, first, Joey. Do you have any bad intentions towards me or my employees? Careful with your answer, because I [Make It a Safe Workplace]."

"I don't plan on harassing anyone," I smile. "I never create problems in the workplace. I know how hard this work is and I just want to do my part to get some money and get myself a start in... what's the name of the city again?"

"Amorium," Clodia clicks her tongue. "So, are you sure you can handle the workload?"

Sure? Lady, I’ve got Italian parents. I was violating child-labour laws when I was seven.

"I'm good," I smile back.

“You’re hired,” she says, and my stomach growls in approval.

And just like that, I get a job in one of the most popular bakeries in the city, earning room and board, and a small salary. Not bad for a first day in a whole different world.

In that moment, a super cute Elf, much shorter than us, approaches Clodia.