Flaminia looked at the pink dress she donned in a copper mirror, smiling smugly to herself. She had found out that Domitilla, that wench, had been lusting after Joey. Therefore, she understood that the stakes had now escalated; she had to bring her A-game.

Her gaze traveled across her reflection in the mirror, lingering on the frilly edges of her dress. They had been meticulously crafted into complex, intricate patterns that added a touch of sophistication. The dress had been designed to expose a generous portion of her bust, drawing attention to her curves. The resulting look was a captivating blend of girlish innocence, high-bred grace, and unabashed sensuality.

From the corner of the room, a voice laced with admonishment, sliced through her admiration. “You should stop looking for idiots to fool around with and find a husband, Flaminia. You are not that young anymore.”

“Shush, Fulvia,” Flaminia waved her hand flippantly in the [Seamstress]’s direction. “I need to work hard to pick the best fruit of the bunch.”

“Who is it now?” Fulvia sighed.

“Joey,” was the single-word reply.

“The Human?” Fulvia raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Since when are you not involved with assholes anymore? I thought that was an established taste of yours.”

“Fulvia,” Flaminia warned, her tone sharpening.

“Youngster, don’t give me attitude inside my shop if you don’t want me to give you a spanking to set you straight,” Fulvia, undeterred, returned a sharp-toned response that gave Flaminia pause.

“Joey is a wonderful guy, but you came here with him the first time he visited, and you didn’t look interested in the slightest. What’s changed?” Fulvia asked.

“I’ve had a change of heart,” Flaminia retorted, “I need to get serious about my future. Joey is everything one could wish for in a future husband. He is handsome, skilled, and wealthy. What more could I want?”

“I admit that he is an interesting fellow,” Fulvia mumbled. “I would throw myself in the bunch if I was his age… But can I ask what happened to that [Sergeant] you were dating? Or that other guy… who was it again?”

“Plinius is an idiot. I’m done with him,” Flaminia rolled her eyes and turned back to the mirror, twirling to see her dress from different angles.

Fulvia gave the pink-haired [Chef] a knowing smile.

“Oh, he dumped you? That’s something.”

“He did not dump me!” Flaminia raised her voice, only to hear cackles from Fulvia in return.

“I didn’t imagine he would let go of our Amata… that’s fascinating. What, you must have treated him so poorly that he actually decided to get out of your sharp claws. What did you even do to him?”

Fulvia sat down and slapped her knee, laughing at Flaminia, who was fuming.

“Flaminia,” Fulvia said, wiping away some tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes, “you are a great customer with lots of money to spend, and you give me some interesting challenges, but I’m going to give you a piece of advice as your senior: stop messing with your life. You would certainly benefit from serving as a [Waitress] for a few months to shed that immaturity.”

“I will let you know,” Flaminia said through gritted teeth, “that I worked myself up from a poor seedling with no class, starting as a waitress, to where I am now, only relying on my talent!”

Fulvia shook her head. “And you didn’t learn anything in the process? Self-absorbed youngster, alright.”

Flaminia wanted to tear apart the beautiful dress Fulvia had made for her – one worthy of a noble – and run out without paying. Now, she was angry, but she wasn’t a fool. She knew that under the jolly demeanor of the [Seamstress], there was a vicious craftsman who had gotten the highest level in Amorium without ever being apprenticed nor getting any help from apprentices.

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Fulvia was not someone to be trifled with.

“Just let me pay,” Flaminia growled. “I have better things to do.”

…

Flaminia could not understand, for all the rotten trees in the world, what had gotten into the people around her. She was currently at odds with everyone.

She put the dress into her bag of holding and shilled out the gold to Fulvia, who accepted with a few more scorching comments. They still stung.

I should stop shopping there, she told herself.

The thought went away as quickly as it had come around.

Fulvia was the best of the best. She tailored everything for the Valerii. There was no way Flaminia could find herself a better [Tailor] or [Seamstress].

But why does she have to be like that? Both she and Clodia seem to have lost their minds.

Flaminia had really pulled herself up by her bootstraps and made herself into the best [Baker] in Amorium all on her own. Her family had left her behind, and she had worked at an inn for quite some time before getting enough levels to be employed in a proper bakery.

She had done it all by herself, really. So why were people still treating her like an entitled brat? First Clodia, telling her that she should teach the employees in Happy Bakery; had Clodia actually gone mad? Flaminia was a few levels from level 40 and from gaining a powerful capstone skill that could single-handedly turn around all of Happy Bakery’s business. Why in the rotten roots of the World’s Tree would she waste her time when Tiberius and Quintus were perfectly able to do the job? So what if they struggled a bit?! They could just earn more levels that way!

Camilla is a bitch, and her opinion doesn’t count, Flaminia thought to herself as she crossed the threshold of Happy Bakery in the afternoon to get a head start on her work for the day. Their competitor had called her a ‘slut’ and acted all high and mighty in front of her.

Rotten roots, I’m even coming in earlier to get as much work done as possible. What else do they want from me?

And what was Fulvia even implying with all those comments anyway? That she was not sincere in her interest in Joey? What, just because she had decided to go for it after she was done with Plinius, it was a bad thing?

Was that it?

What was she supposed to have done, then? Dated multiple people at once and tried her luck with everyone?

Sure, she had done that in the past but only out of boredom. Those days were definitely long past her by now.

She entered the kitchen to find Tiberius and Quintus already there, working with a few employees. Even Raissa was with them.

Flaminia went to one of the resting rooms to change after sneaking a glance at which employees they two were teaching.

Huh, those are all the worst ones.

The bakery was choke-full of people who could barely accomplish the minimum on their own—people who had earned maybe five levels total in the [Baker] class in more than a year.

Hopeless, Flaminia shook her head.

She had told Clodia repeatedly that some of their employees simply didn’t have what it took to be [Bakers]. Rotten roots, even that viper, Violante, had been a better [Baker] than most of those who stayed with them after she had gone.

Where is she working now? I forgot.

Flaminia had heard that her stay at the Three Roses had been brief.

Violante was lazy and a big racist, but she was also nice to have a chat with and almost level 20.

Maybe I should get in touch with her again. Who knows, maybe she changed her mind about Humans.

Flaminia bit her lower lip.

Not likely, though.

Joey had given Violante the kind of treatment that would make her a fierce hater of Humans for her whole life.

Fuck her too, then, Flaminia sighed.

She had bigger concerns than social relationships at the moment: work. She could feel in her very bones that she was close to level 40.

Level 40…

It was something most people couldn’t even dream of. Her rotted parents had abandoned her, thinking her a useless burden on their family, a mouth too large to feed with not enough return value. That, beyond anything else, had spurred Flaminia to make something of herself.

Spite had been a huge motivator. It had made her into the woman she was now: loved and proficient.

Sure, that idiot of Plinius had some other plans, probably related to his career and whatnot.

All those excuses about needing to focus on his promotion… Flaminia grumbled as she took several ready-to-be-baked puff pastries out of the fridge and started rolling them out and cutting them into little cakes.

She had burned into her memory all that Joey had said about puff pastry and the mille-feuille. He had mentioned that one could make smaller versions that could be sold separately as individual small cakes.

That will show that little goblin, Flaminia smiled to herself evilly.

Camilla, like Flaminia’s parents before, had it coming her way. She had come to accept the fact that Joey was a better [Baker] than she was—wait, not a [Baker] but a Baker, with capital B. But that’s where she drew the line. Camilla might be lauded by everyone as a genius, but could the little monster actually reach level 40? That was the point where one could get the title of a Named Adventurer… if they were an adventurer.

Fulvia is probably in the early 40s, level-wise. But she’s old. I’m not even thirty, and I’m this close to level 40. Once I get there, with Joey’s help, we can put the Three Roses out of business forever.

As Flaminia savored her dreams for the future, she saw a slip of paper magically appear on the countertop she was about to use for work.