Many years prior
Flaminia was sitting on the solitary wall of a broken-down house, resting her lithe legs. Once again, her parents wanted her to work all night to fill out the bread orders for the next day—and once again, she eloped.
It wasn't her fault that working so much had started blemishing her hands. Plus, since she hadn't gained even one level in any cooking class yet, why should she bother? Shouldn't she try to look for a better class than simply becoming a [Baker]?
'But you are the first-born!' Her mother would have said, like every other time.
Sure, the first-born of too many children, that's what she was!
"Hi!"
Flaminia lowered her gaze from the wall where she usually came to spend some time with her friends to find a teenage boy looking at her dreamily.
"Hey," Flaminia replied, not remembering the boy's name. She looked at the soot all over the boy's face and hands and curled her nose upwards in disgust.
"Whatcha doing alone out here?" The boy smiled, unknowingly rubbing some of the soot from his hand into his hair. "Do you want me to walk you home?"
Flaminia didn't even respond, limiting herself to staring at the boy with a frown.
"I just finished hauling the coal into my father's forge," the boy, suddenly self-conscious, said, trying to rub his hands on an equally dirty shirt.
"I can see that," Flaminia said, turning to gaze at the moon again.
The boy stood there, rubbing his hands together, unsure of what to do next. Flaminia, on the other hand, was feeling great—she loved making shy boys squirm in front of her beauty. She kept looking at him from the corner of her vision, the slightest smile appearing on her red lips.
She had seen this guy before in her friend's group, even though she did not remember his name. But, unlike the best slackers of the group, he would often miss their hangouts to help his father at his forge. He was a bit chubby but strong—still, because of his honest nature, almost everyone in the group had him be the bark of laughter every single time.
The boy fidgeted, clearly interested in her—just like the rest of the crew. But Flaminia had just been stringing them along without even giving a kiss to any of them.
Tonight, she felt different, though.
She looked at the boy again, pursing her lips.
"Y'know, it's dangerous for a girl to stay out all by herself," the boy said tentatively.
"It is," Flaminia smiled back.
The two teenagers looked at each other, one red in his face, the other with two feline eyes.
Flaminia was tired of her parents constantly pushing her to work like a mule and telling her that she should already be looking for marriage prospects.
Blergh, marriage, Flaminia felt nausea at the sole word. They are idiots. All of them.
She looked back at the moon one last time, thinking of what her future in Amorium would be considering her rather poor family and no levels.
With a sigh, she slung herself back onto the ground but landed badly and almost fell. The blacksmith apprentice promptly stepped forward and grabbed her waist, helping her balance.
A few seconds of silence later, the boy realized what he had just done and retracted his hand as if he had plunged them into a blazing forge.
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"Sorry, I was just trying to—"
Flaminia, feeling mischievous, stepped forward and gave him a gentle peck on his lips.
The boy's eyes went wide, but before he could even process what was happening, Flaminia had already stepped back and turned her back to him.
"I'll see you around," she said, walking away with a sway.
…
A Few Weeks Later
Once again, she had spent the night sleeping in an abandoned garden no one tended to in the Northeastern part of Amorium, a little hiding place she used to go to in order to evade her duties. Now, she was walking back to her parents' house. She would have to hear about responsibilities, about her shamelessness, about how she never helped around the house, and how she was the most selfish girl in the city.
She shrugged.
Flaminia had already heard all of that a thousand times over—hearing it another time wouldn't hurt. Thankfully, her parents didn't like physical beatings… not that it would have stopped her in any way.
Her family resented her, and she resented them. She was still waiting for something better, for someone better. She just wanted to get a good class and get a bunch of levels to show her parents just how useless they really were.
Little did she know that as soon as she arrived at her house that doubled as a bakery, she would find no one there.
She raised an eyebrow, knowing that they would usually be selling bread from the windows at this time, on top of the deliveries they also did. Her mother would already be shouting, trying to sell her salty pastries to the neighbors.
Flaminia's nose didn't pick up any smells of freshly baked goods, though – not even the meat pastries that her mother tried feeding her family every day. She circled the house before pushing the door and entering an empty living room.
The few things that her family owned were nowhere to be seen. Her noisy, raucous siblings, too, had disappeared.
"Where did they go?" She frowned, sighing. "Is this another stupid game of theirs?"
Flaminia had heard more than once that one day, they would just leave her behind if she didn't start picking up some slack if she didn't try to get some levels in the [Baker] class or at least marry someone of means.
Not that she believed them, obviously.
Who would leave a young daughter behind?
…
"T-they… they just left!" Flaminia sobbed to her friend's parents, who were the owners of a rather modest inn. "I don't know why!"
The couple looked at the beautiful young girl and tried to console her. But Flaminia cried and cried until, with their hearts breaking for the poor girl, they decided to take her in.
…
Three Years Later
It was Flaminia's eighteenth birthday, and she had a swarm of people around her. Although, the two selfish [Innkeepers] that had called her ungrateful for leaving the inn to get more levels were nowhere to be seen.
"Ungrateful," Flaminia smiled wickedly.
How could she be ungrateful? She had gotten them plenty of new clients. After they had taken her in, she had worked like a crazed woman, leaving all her friends behind to try and amass as many levels as possible. Barely a year later, she had already gotten herself a job in a bakery. Now, two years after that, she had reached level 20, at only eighteen years of age.
Everyone around her was drunk and celebrating.
Reaching level 20 at such a young age was nothing to scoff at. Many told her that it was likely she would reach level 30 by her thirties.
Flaminia smiled again.
By her thirties? She would reach that much earlier!
Her true goal was to get as many levels as possible so that one day, when her disgusting parents heard of her name, they would cry themselves to sleep knowing they had left such a beautiful gem behind. They had thought she was a green, rotting apple. But Flaminia had turned out to be a glistening diamond!
…
Months later
Flaminia was stuck at level 20, and she was losing her mind.
How?! How?!
She kicked a huge sack of flour as the rest of the employees at the end of the shift walked on tiptoes around her. They knew her for her temper, the same temper that had repeatedly flared in the past weeks since she had been stuck at level 20, with no signs of possible leveling anytime soon.
She removed her apron and stormed out of the bakery, going for a walk in the Pratus to clear her head.
But before she could get there, she heard someone call her name.
"Flaminia?"
The pink-haired [Baker] turned to look at a much taller woman with muscular arms coming out of a stretched tank top.
"Do I know you?" Flaminia scoffed.
"No. I'm Clodia," the woman didn't budge and extended her hand to Flaminia.
"Ok?" Flaminia shook Clodia's hand half-heartedly.
"I am recruiting [Bakers] for my bakery," Clodia said with a straight face. "I would like to make you an offer. Let me start by saying that you would be the head [Baker]."
"Why would I accept this offer?" Flaminia looked around as if this Clodia had just gotten lost and randomly picked her from the crowd to ask for directions.
"Why?" Clodia smiled with a glint in her eyes. "I know you are stuck. Rumors are already spreading. My mother has revealed some secrets about classes to me that not many know. What if I told you I could get you a bunch of levels?"
Looking deep into the strong woman's eyes, Flaminia knew that one day, she would reach level 40 and that the people who had badmouthed her would have to swallow their own bile.