The afternoon light spilled through the large window, casting long and vibrant rays across the room. Clodia found herself caught in an intricate net of shimmering dust particles kicked up by her guest; she stared into the glossy, reddened green eyes of Flaminia, her best [Baker] and closest friend.
“Tell me again,” she requested, her voice echoing a tired sigh as she draped a sturdy arm around the slender shoulders of the pink-haired Elf.
The words gushed out of Flaminia like a broken dam, raw and unfiltered, her teary eyes threatening to spill. “I d-didn’t know what to do!” she hiccupped, her tear-streaked face a portrait of despair and regret. Clodia, finding an aimless spot on the wood-washed wall to focus on, barely restrained herself from beating some sense into the idiot at her side.
“I just want to help, Clodia! I just want to help!” echoed Flaminia's desperate plea.
Couldn’t help yourself not messing this up, Clodia thought to herself, her gaze still stubbornly adhered to the wall.
“Rotten roots, Flaminia,” she managed to utter, her voice barely concealing the frayed edges of her patience. “Why did you have to kiss him? You knew Joey was seeing a girl! Couldn’t you mind your own business?!”
Clodia wanted to punch her own head in now. Amidst the chaos stirred by the [Corporal]'s despicable challenge to Joey, she found herself in the whirlwind of teenage-like romance drama. Even Amelia wouldn’t go this far in a situation like this—and her girlfriend loved drama.
“But I think I like him! He’s so sweet, Clodia! And he cares!” Flaminia blurted out, her voice a notch above a whimper.
The muscled woman dug the nails of her free hand into her palm.
She hated that a part of her job was to pander to Flaminia’s neediness. The pink-haired [Baker] was not easy to deal with—Clodia had tried to explain to her how to avoid trouble in her personal life many times, but it was like talking to a tree. One of the many burdens of her role as the head of Happy Bakery was indeed to manage Flaminia's emotional storms. The [Baker] was a tornado of feelings—tempestuous, unpredictable, and utterly resistant to reason or guidance.
“If anything happens to him, I’ll follow him anywhere! Irene didn’t even let him explain himself! And what if Plinius finds out!” Flaminia's desperate outburst echoed through the room, ricocheting off the corners.
If not for Joey’s situation, Clodia would be seriously considering a tranquil [Hermit] life in the mountains now.
"You've already done this, Flaminia. This...pining and chasing—this mess. It didn't end well last time," Clodia reminded her sternly, staring pointedly at the Elf. "Perhaps you should clear things up with Irene first. Not about Joey, but about yourself. Tell the poor woman you made the first move.”
It’s the most reasonable thing to do, Clodia thought to herself.
Flaminia sniffed, shaking her head vigorously. "It wouldn't do any good. Irene...Irene won't listen." Her voice dropped to a whisper. “She didn’t even listen to Joey. Why would she listen to me?”
Clodia observed her friend quietly as her sobs took over, her fragile form shuddering with each new wave of tears. Despite her frustration, Clodia couldn't deny the pang of sympathy she felt.
That said, Flaminia kept bawling her eyes out, making Clodia feel bad for her.
With a deep breath, the boss of Happy Bakery started to gather her thoughts.
Flaminia's feelings for Joey were not what she had expected to tackle today. She missed the days when their biggest problem was a burnt batch of loaves.
If she had to be honest, she didn’t believe for one second that Flaminia genuinely liked the Human. The pink-haired [Baker] was, to put it gently, whiny. Plinius had been a tack on a tall tree of men that had fallen for her.
Not long ago, Flaminia told her that she had broken it off with him—that he was an idiot. Clodia hadn’t believed that for one second. She didn’t have mold in her brain: Flaminia had been speaking haughtily about letting Plinius bring her to the Valerii party.
He must have refused her, Clodia mused before steering herself back to the problem at hand.
"We can't let this spiral, Flaminia. We need to handle it."
Clodia's resolve seemed to ignite a spark in Flaminia, whose eyes lit up at her words. "What if...what if we get everyone together? Let them see Joey for who he really is. Maybe, we can bring everyone to Irene?” she suggested, her tone hopeful.
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Clodia looked at her friend, thinking. There was something off about that idea, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
I wish I had my mother’s skills, she said, rubbing her face after removing her arm from Flaminia’s shoulders.
Listen. I don’t know," she admitted finally, a wistful sigh escaping her lips. "I don’t know. That’s it. I don’t."
Clodia was frustrated at not having a good solution to all this mess. However, not knowing what to say, she simply decided to stick to silence—it was the easiest solution.
While Flaminia kept bawling her eyes out for another ten minutes, the boss of Happy Bakery was thinking of many other things.
Joey had gone off, saying he would be training to win the duel. She knew the Human had made some good friends, especially among the ex-[Soldiers], but she also knew that it would be downright impossible for him to beat Appius in a duel.
Should I start arranging the business around the fact that he’s going to lose?
Then, she remembered when she had thought about saving Joey from the confrontation with Flaminia. At the end of the day, she should have been much more worried about the consequences for the pink-haired Elf than the Human.
Could he pull it off again?
Every rational bone in her body told her that only a molded-brain idiot would even think of it. Something in her heart, though, told her that Joey had more than a shot.
He was very sure of himself, Clodia thought. Much more than I’ve seen him with anything that is not baking.
…
"Do you recall when you first stepped into my life?" Flaminia asked. Their previous stress had been temporarily washed away, replaced by the quiet tranquility of two close companions sharing some tea under the soft glow of the sun filtering through the windows. Flaminia's characteristic vibrant pink locks shimmered under the sunlight, her composure regained after the tempest of emotions she had weathered.
"I was in dire need of skilled [Bakers], and there you were, shining brighter than a star," Clodia responded, a playful smirk lighting up her face, "I could tell already then that you were outgrowing your previous job, stagnating despite your potential."
That was how the strands of their lives had intertwined almost a decade ago. Flaminia Lemonia Amata, regardless of her meteoric ascent in the baking world, had found herself on a frustrating plateau, unable to level further. The bakery she had been associated with had tried to cater to her every whim, hoping to reignite her growth. But it had been a fruitless effort; there was simply no more room for her to expand her horizons there.
This was exactly the kind of individual Clodia had sought: someone willing to weather the rough and tumble life in the Pratus, with limited resources and a skeleton crew, driven by the pursuit of personal growth and ideals over material wealth. As she took in the sight of the highest level [Baker] in Amorium, a bright smile playing on Flaminia's face, Clodia knew, without a doubt, that her gamble had paid off.
Flaminia let out a soft giggle, the sound rippling through the tranquil room. "You were so adamant about recruiting me that I mistook it for something else," she teased, her lips curling upwards around her teacup.
Clodia shrugged nonchalantly, "I knew you were a handful even then. But I recognized the value you could bring to the table."
"Listen," she began, her tone turning serious, "we can afford to give Joey some time to sort out the Irene situation, particularly after the duel. It’s not a priority, and I don’t want to cut down whatever tree you seemed to have climbed up.”
Flaminia raised a questioning eyebrow, "But?"
"We have our own house to set in order, Flaminia. With Joey absent, we need to focus on boosting the skills of our employees. We need you at the forefront, mentoring the girls who are still striving to reach level 10. If unforeseen circumstances during the duel force us to reevaluate our situation in Amorium, we'll need to mobilize as many resources as possible—and that won’t be an easy or cheap undertaking. We’ll need everyone to contribute their fair share.”
“Clodia,” Flaminia interjected, a frown marring her face, “I need to focus on mastering the recipes that Joey left us. The puff pastry, the cannoli, the cassatine. These are intricate creations, and I’m the only one equipped to handle their production.”
But Clodia stood her ground, shaking her head in disagreement. “Tiberius and Quintus can take care of that. We've postponed dealing with this for too long.”
“Tiberius and Quintus can take care of the rest of the employees,” Flaminia scoffed at Clodia's suggestion. “I am level thirty-six. And if I can master these three recipes, who knows—I might even reach level 40. My capstone skill would be worth more than fifty girls.”
“This is not about you. This is about the girls, Flaminia. You know that not all of them are doing great. Joey has helped Raissa, but there are many like her in a difficult position who need a reliable job. If we leave Amorium now, they might not find another job,” Clodia’s expression hardened, her brows furrowing in frustration.
“Joey is going to win,” Flaminia stated.
“How do you know?”
“He said so,” Flaminia, seemingly unfazed by Clodia's reprimands, retorted. “Therefore, why should we worry about this? We need to focus on the recipes, not the people. The girls will do just fine, trust me. If you don’t think so, put Tiberius and Quintus on them. Joey had them level up at an incredible speed. They are not that green behind their ears anymore. Also, they learned from him. Who would be better than those two?”
“You, Flaminia,” Clodia snapped. “You. Some of the girls are not comfortable around men. They need—”
“Clodia,” Flaminia raised her voice. “My job is to be the best, not to be a babysitter. If someone doesn’t want to work with Tiberius and Quintus – who, by the way, are great [Bakers] – then they don’t really deserve a job!”
“You are being selfish,” Clodia growled.
“I am not being selfish! I just cried my eyes out to you because you are my best friend!”
“You don’t even know whether Joey is going to win, Flaminia! You just don’t want to do the work!”
“My work,” Flaminia shouted, “is to make you a lot of fucking money by being the best [Baker] we have!”
Clodia, beside herself, spat out some words that she regretted immediately.
“You are not the best baker we have!”
Flaminia’s eyes widened.