Flaminia had rarely found something as challenging in the pastry world as puff pastry. Even with all her skills and experience, slipping on one small detail could simply send the butter sprawling everywhere—which would annihilate the chances of creating multiple flagrant layers the way Joey had shown to them.
“Rotten roots,” she swore, almost launching the piece of the folded puff pastry onto a cooling rune. She had been practicing for hours, and while it was easy to make one sheet of puff pastry at a time for her, she was now trying to multi-task and make five at once, alternating the various phases.
That’s what I need to do if we want to scale up, the pink-haired [Chef] thought to herself and scoffed. Clodia simply did not understand the priorities of a true [Baker].
It was early morning, almost. The sun had infiltrated Happy Bakery, reducing the need for artificial [Lights] and lanterns. In the tepid, blueish hues of the morning, two [Bakers] were running back and forth among almost thirty baking stations as they made sure that everyone had internalized how to properly knead bread, how to mix the ingredients for a cake base, and other basic baking processes.
They are managing, Flaminia thought to herself, even though Tiberius and Quintus were clearly struggling to keep up with everyone. Their foreheads were heavy with perspiration, and a frown was perpetually etched on both their faces.
I can’t do everything, rotten roots; she thought as she saw two of the girls clearly struggling to understand the right ratio of ingredients for a sponge cake—that was a mistake she had been making before Joey had made it extremely clear that precision was everything.
But…!
Flaminia was, in fact, practicing the puff pastry with rigor because of Joey’s teachings!
Maybe I’ll help when I have more time, she thought to herself, seeing Tiberius and Quintus not noticing the two girls. Can’t stop now. I have too much on my hands.
And so, she ignored everyone else inside the bakery to fully focus on making as much puff pastry as possible before switching to the cannoli. It took her almost an hour, but she was getting the impression that she had mastered the essentials of puff pastry. She was finally developing that feeling Joey had talked about. He had said that baking was half-precision, half-feeling.
Done with the quota of puff pastry she had given herself, she was now folding cannoli dough around the circular cylinders she had instantly commissioned to Raul’s master, Hyginus.
Lard, she shook her head. Fascinating.
She had never imagined one could put together such a concoction, fry it, then fill it up with cheese, and finally, call it a dessert.
…
Flaminia was having a small reprieve from the frying and filling when she saw a diminutive blonde Elf with a bob cut enter the kitchen floor of Happy Bakery. She sat beside some sizzling oil when Camilla spotted her and made a beeline towards her.
“Camilla,” Flaminia nodded, not offering her dirtied hands to the other [Baker]. The pink-haired [Chef] was somehow surprised to find a serious expression on the small girl’s face.
“You are a rotten slut,” Camilla spoke with a straight face. “Climbing every damn tree you can.”
“Excuse me?” Flaminia said, taken aback.
“You heard me, slut,” Camilla spoke with a level voice. “I’ve heard that you kissed the Human right in front of Irene. He even tried convincing Irene that he had nothing to do with the kiss—which is probably true, considering what kind of a filthy wench I’m talking to. Was the Human involved with you in any way before that kiss?”
“How do you—” Flaminia reeled but was interrupted by her [Danger Sense] suddenly screaming in her ear.
Camilla put her hand on the handle of the big frying pot she had been using for frying the Sicilian cannoli shells. The blonde raised her other hand, with a truth-stone encased in a big ring.
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Flaminia eyed the blazing hot pot with wide eyes before looking at Camilla’s hand.
A skill, she thought. That was the only way Camilla didn’t get burned.
“I have no time to waste,” Camilla said, her voice ice-cold.
“You are a mad—”
Camilla lifted the pot, making some of the scalding hot oil spill on the ground.
“No! Rotten roots! I just kissed him because—”
“Don’t need your slutty reasons. I’m here to talk to Clodia.”
Camilla slammed the pot back on the rune, making the hot oil splash out and Flaminia jump back, and walked away.
…
I’m not a slut! Flaminia fumed, stomping toward her own apartment. After the incident at Happy Bakery, all eyes had been on her but not in the way she liked.
How had Camilla gotten to know what happened? Had Irene tattled this fast?
Flaminia bit her lip—no, it was more likely that the gossip mill had already reached her. There had been several people around the Pratus when it happened. It would have been enough to have one of Camilla’s employees there or a friend of theirs—yeah, that would have been more than enough to land Flaminia in the middle of the hottest gossip. In fact, Amata was a title that she had earned through all the gossip surrounding her suitors. But now, there was a bigger problem at hand.
What did that midget want me to do? Not like Joey? Is it my fault that there’s no half-decent man in this town?
Rotten roots, am I not entitled to my own feelings? What, I can’t like a man if another woman likes him?
Flaminia kept stomping her way like an angry bull.
She didn’t even want him! What is all this fuss about?!
She gritted her teeth.
I deserve someone like Joey!
In her mind, Flaminia had done minimally wrong—if anything at all. Irene had not shown any particular affection for her co-worker. Therefore, the pink-haired Elf felt perfectly fine pouncing on this opportunity.
I can uproot any of those infesting weeds pestering Joey, Flaminia thought to herself. He’s handsome and talented. I am even ready to follow him outside Amorium if needed! Is Irene ready to do that?!
To her, this looked like the greenest-eared discussion ever. What had she done wrong?! She knew very well that she had messed up during the bake-off and when Joey had initially come there, but wasn’t this the exact opposite? Wasn’t this Flaminia completely embracing Joey’s arrival to Amorium?
I wonder what half-Human babies look like, she thought, punctuating the mental image with a giggle.
Lost in her fantasies, Flaminia suddenly realized something.
Rotten roots. I should visit him. It’s true that these idiots are all angry, but I should definitely be by Joey’s side now that he’s in so much trouble. He said he would be training or something… I’ll check where he lives.
…
Flaminia went through the gate that brought her to the apartment without a problem. The [Attendant] there had already seen her there before, and she had sent a wink his way, feeling great about herself when he saw him become redder than a tomato.
As she was going up the stairs, though, she was starstruck by a particular person.
She found herself staring at the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
“Flaminia?” A tall blonde with grey-blue eyes spoke in a crystalline voice.
The pink-haired [Chef] found herself speechless for a moment.
“Oh, sorry,” the blonde smiled, “I’m Domitilla. We hung out a few times?”
“Rotten roots!” The swear erupted involuntarily from Flaminia’s lips. “Domitilla?! You grew up so much!”
And even though ‘grew’ was what Flaminia had just said, she meant to remark on the girl’s stunning beauty. Subconsciously, Flaminia crossed her arms, and the smile on her face became slightly more tense.
Domitilla, however, didn’t seem to notice this change in the other’s demeanor. If anything, she looked at Flaminia in admiration.
“You are so pretty,” Domitilla said with a hopeless smile. “I would refuse a class to learn what you do with your hair.”
Flaminia swallowed, forcing herself to nod.
“It’s nothing, really. You are gorgeous yourself,” she replied. “Are you here… visiting your aunt?”
Flaminia had to think hard to pull the information she was looking for out of her mind.
Wait, didn’t her aunt offer this girl in marriage to Joey?
“No, no. My aunt is out on business. She’s looking at some new apartments she was thinking of buying. I don’t want to bother her too much—plus, she keeps insisting on the whole Joey thing soooo much! Did you know she told him that I have been offered to him in marriage?!”
“Oh, my,” Flaminia strained another smile. “Really? Wait, how old are you again?”
“I’m nineteen,” Domitilla shrugged. “I know, I know. Many marry even younger—my aunt repeated that to me until I was nauseous.”
“What’s that in your hands?” Flaminia sniffed the air and caught the smell of roasted lamb and potatoes, her experience as a [Chef] immediately deconstructing the dish.
“Oh,” Domitilla blushed slightly, looking as if she wanted to hide the covered casserole in her hands. “I heard about Joey and the duel… You know… I just wanted to do something nice for him.”
Flaminia looked down at her empty hands and then back at Domitilla.
“But don’t get me wrong! I don’t want to marry him!” Domitilla giggled, embarrassed. “Between you and me, though? He’s cute, isn’t he? You work with him, right?”
Flaminia looked at the gorgeous young woman, almost ten years younger than her, and frowned.
“I—I just work with him,” Flaminia said without even thinking about why she had to lie to this girl.
“Anyway, he’s not home,” Domitilla shrugged. “You don’t happen to have an appetite for roasted lamb, do you?”
Domitilla offered the casserole to the other Elf with a smile, but Flaminia shook her head.
“No, I just dropped by for some work stuff. I—I am really not hungry.”