The first-years were gathered outside the main hall with Razz Berry, Boysen’s brother and the third-year Flavor apprentice. They were all thrilled with the gift of cinnamon rolls Lyra and Hyacinth brought, though it seemed to Lyra that Razz was mostly thrilled with the arrival of Hyacinth herself.

“You gave Flax the preserves?” he asked her as the trays passed around. “What did he think?”

Hyacinth blushed, but she was smiling. “He said the combination was… ‘daring.’”

“He’s not wrong.” Razz winked at Lyra. “So, you had quite a morning! How do you like our dear head chef?”

“He’s amazing,” Lyra gushed. “So is Bumble. And Sprinkle.”

Razz whistled. “You got the full Peppercorn Experience. Good for you. Took me weeks to get properly acquainted with those three when I was here.”

“You spent the whole morning in the kitchens, Lyra?” Boysen sounded wistful. “Wish I could’ve been there.”

“Don’t you know Chef Flax?” Lyra asked. “He said he’s a friend of your family.”

“Oh, sure. I’ve known Flax my whole life, but I’ve only met Bumble and Sprinkle a few times. And I’ve never gotten to bake with them.”

“The kitchen is one of the first stops on the tour, Poison,” Razz said cheerfully. “You’ll get your chance soon enough.”

Boysen threw a piece of cinnamon roll at his older brother, who managed to catch it in his mouth.

“I’ll be visiting them again,” Lyra told Boysen. “With my guitar. I’m sure you could come along.”

“Really?” Ginger, standing next to Boysen, perked up. “What about me? Could I join?”

“And me?” Mac asked, his eyes wide and hopeful behind his glasses.

Lyra smiled. “I don’t see why not. They seem to enjoy company.”

“I’m sure Lyra will be too busy to spend much time in the kitchen.” Caramelle accepted the tray of cinnamon rolls Hyacinth offered her and passed it to Mac without taking one. “We all will. If we want to still be here for a second term, of course.”

“I don’t know about that,” Hyacinth said. “Chef is a great friend to have if you want to succeed in baking. Bumble too. I’ve learned just as much during my visits to the kitchen as I have in class.”

Caramelle’s eyebrows rose, but instead of replying, she pulled Lyra to one side.

“I was trying to cover for you,” the auburn-haired girl whispered, while Boysen and Razz argued noisily over the largest cinnamon roll. “Remember what I said about making a good impression? You do not want to be known as the girl who spends all her time in the kitchen. People will start thinking of you as staff, or even…” Caramelle dropped her voice even lower, forcing Lyra to lean in close to hear the final words: “…a servant.”

“Chef isn’t a servant,” Lyra replied indignantly, careful to keep her voice low. “He’s a chef. Isn’t that what we’re all hoping to be?”

Caramelle shook her head vigorously. “Not in a school. In the palace, ideally. Or in your own restaurant. But not slaving away over a hot stove, year after year, for a bunch of students. Have some pride, Lyra.”

Before Lyra could respond, her eyes caught on the one person who could make her forget all about Chef Flax, Bumble, and even the amazing Lady Sprinkle.

“Cinnamon rolls?” Cardamom Coulis the Third smiled at the sight of the nearly empty trays. “I guess the tour started without me. Been to the kitchen already?”

Razz waved the third-year Presentation apprentice over. “You’re right on time. These are a gift from Flax, courtesy of his new apprentice, the amazing Lyra Treble.”

“Lyra’s not his apprentice,” Caramelle rushed to say, giving Cardamom a radiant smile. “She just agreed to help the chef out this once. She’s awfully kindhearted.”

Cardamom’s dark eyes sparkled at Lyra. “Indeed. Very selfless of you to work all through your first morning, Miss Treble.”

“It was fun,” Lyra heard herself saying, then blushed at the unusually high pitch of her voice. Bringing it down to a more natural register, she went on, “Chef is incredible. I hope to go back soon.”

Hyacinth held out one of the trays. “Cinnamon roll, Cardamom?”

“No, thank you.”

“C’mon, Hyacinth,” Razz chided her. “You know Coulis doesn’t really eat food like the rest of us. He prefers looking at it.”

“I eat plenty, I assure you,” Cardamom said mildly. “Though I do think looking at something beautiful is its own sort of nourishment.”

“Is the tour going to begin soon?” Aniseed’s icy voice rang out imperiously through the crisp midmorning air. She was standing three feet away from the group, arms folded, her raven hair as straight and still as her rigidly perfect posture. “Or shall I find a more efficient way to spend my time?”

“Of course.” Hyacinth’s calm tone and gracious smile smoothed over the sudden awkwardness. “We’re all here, so let’s get started.”

She nodded to Razz, who darted up the main hall’s three broad, shallow steps. Pulling one door open, he ushered the first-years inside.

“This, as you know, is the main hall,” Hyacinth said once they were all assembled in the foyer. She pointed at the magnificent double doors directly across from the entrance. “I’m sure you’ve also heard of the Great Room. Used only for graduation and a few other very special occasions. We won’t be going in, I’m afraid.”

Catching the look of disappointment on Lyra’s face, Hyacinth smiled apologetically. “Only professors have a key. But work hard this year, and you’ll get more than a glimpse. You’ll get to attend our graduation ceremony.”

“Not all of us,” Ginger said under her breath. Lyra elbowed her, but the dark-haired girl shrugged. “Just speaking the truth.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Razz banged the two empty trays together. He had apparently polished off all the remaining cinnamon rolls single-handedly. “But who can work hard without sufficient fuel? Next stop on the tour: the kitchen. I’m sure Flax and Bumble are missing Lyra already, and I need to return these trays.”

As Chef Flax had warned Lyra, the first-years made only a brief pass through the kitchen and greenhouse. Still, it was a pleasant beginning to the tour. Chef Flax complimented Lyra on her exceptional baking instincts, and everyone, except Aniseed, was delighted with Bumble. Even Caramelle couldn’t resist the furry red sous chef’s charm, especially after he chattered out a lengthy sentence, which Chef Flax translated as praise of ‘Miss Meringue’s exquisite entrance exam cake.

Sprinkle was an even bigger hit. Ginger, in particular, was fascinated by the gardening squirrel’s work, and by the greenhouse in general. She vowed to learn as much squirrel-language as possible, so she could come back and interview Sprinkle properly about the various kinds of plants and their magical care.

The only new information Lyra picked up from this part of the tour was about the royal academy orchard, which stood between the greenhouse and the stone wall surrounding the campus.

“It’s not really fair to call it an ‘orchard’, though,” Razz mused, looking around the small enclosed space. “I think ‘tiny collection of functional trees’ would be more accurate.”

“It doesn’t seem tiny when you have to work in it,” Cardamom said glumly.

Caramelle went very still beside Lyra. “Work? Students have to work in the orchard?”

“It’s not that bad,” Hyacinth assured her. “Once a term, we come out here on a Saturday to harvest. It doesn’t take long at all with everyone working together. And then Chef always picks one fruit to invent some spectacular new dessert that night, in celebration.”

Razz sighed happily. “Remember the peach illusion cake, second term last year?”

“The one that looked like a peach, but tasted like a blueberry cheesecake?” Cardamom frowned. “Not my favorite. I found it… confusing.”

Razz ignored him, lost in a blissful memory. “It floated. Flax claims he was using Bumble’s magic, but I’m pretty sure it was just the cake. Lifted by its own deliciousness…” He sighed again.

“Excuse me?” Mac raised his hand.

Boysen smacked his roommate on the back of the head. “Just speak, Macaron. You don’t need permission.”

Razz, in turn, gave Boysen a shove that nearly sent him sprawling. “Don’t hit your fellow students, Poison. Bad manners.”

“I was just wondering,” Mac said nervously. “I see apple trees, peach trees, lemon, orange, lime, banana — and lots of different berry bushes.”

“Five,” Razz broke in. “Blueberry, blackberry, strawberry, cranberry… and, of course, everyone’s favorite: razzberry.” He winked at Hyacinth, who rolled her eyes with an indulgent smile.

“But they’re all blooming at the same time,” Mac went on determinedly. “How is that possible? And who takes care of them?”

“The plants are magical, so everything’s always in season,” Hyacinth explained. “That’s also why they don’t need a lot of care. One of the royal gardeners comes around every few weeks to check on them, but that’s it.” She turned back to Caramelle. “Harvesting may sound like a lot of work, but it’s really fun, not to mention rewarding. Trust me.”

Caramelle clearly did not trust the third-year on this particular point, but she forced her lips into a tight smile. “It will certainly be a… new experience.”

“It’s only once a term,” Cardamom said, turning back towards the greenhouse as if he couldn’t bear the sight of the orchard any longer. “Shall we move on to the parts of campus where they’ll actually be spending most of their time?”

“By all means.” Hyacinth smiled encouragingly. “Who’s ready for some classrooms?”

Following Cardamom, who couldn’t seem to get away from the area fast enough, the group passed back through the greenhouse. Lyra waved at Chef Flax and Bumble as they trooped through the kitchen. Pausing in the dining hall just long enough to give a brief history of the academy’s first set of professors, who had held the first class in the dining hall centuries before, Hyacinth led the group back into the foyer and up one of the staircases to the second floor.

Rushing ahead, Razz opened the first door on the left and stood back with a bow. “Behold, the Flavor classroom!”

Lyra looked around the airy room, caught between excitement and apprehension. The Flavor lab was a miniature version of the exam hall. Two rows of three work-stations each took up most of the space, facing a larger teacher work-station elevated on a small platform at the front. Behind the professor’s counter, a vast blackboard covered the entire wall. Large windows lined the wall across from the door, letting in plenty of bright sunshine.

“You’ll be starting your classes here tomorrow.” Razz jumped onto the teacher’s platform and perched nonchalantly on the work-station counter. “With all three professors. First-years begin and end the week in a full tribunal.”

Hyacinth didn’t have to move. All she did was glare at the irrepressible Berry, and he hopped down from the platform with a sheepish grin.

“It’s not a tribunal,” she said. “Monday mornings, the professors meet with you all together to explain what the week’s focus will be. Then you have a class with each professor individually.”

“Flavor, Texture, and Presentation,” Cardamom inserted. He turned a dazzling smile on the first-year group, making Lyra’s heart spin faster than an electric whisk. “Save the best for last.”

Razz booed loudly. Hyacinth ignored both boys and continued, “Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday will be full lab days. You’ll spend all of Tuesday in this room, working on Flavor with Professor Honeycomb.”

“And me,” Razz added, rubbing his hands together as if devising all manner of mischief. Before Hyacinth could reprimand him, he pointed to the ceiling. “Wednesdays are Texture days. Third floor, with the Puff… and the great Apprentice Baker Roulade, of course.”

“And every Thursday,” Cardamom said grandly, “Professor Genoise and I will guide you through the mysteries of Presentation. On the top floor.”

Hyacinth shook her head, but persevered. “Fridays are for debriefing. You’ll go to Flavor, Texture, and Presentation. Then all the professors will meet you in the Presentation classroom to share any final thoughts on the week, and give you homework assignments for the weekend. Any questions?”

Mac started to raise his hand, then caught Boysen’s eye and quickly lowered it.

“My roommate has a question,” Boysen announced.

“If there’s only one classroom per floor,” Mac said, “then what are all those other rooms for? I saw a lot of doors.”

“Practice kitchens,” Hyacinth replied. “Lots of them, on every floor. Between this building and the dorms, you’ll never be in want of a free workspace. And the bottom floor has a library.” She smiled at Mac. “Excellent question.”

Emboldened by her smile, Mac launched another query. “Are all the classrooms alike?”

“Yes, but don’t take our word for it.” Razz headed to the door, waving for the group to follow. “This is a tour, isn’t it? Let’s get a move on. We’ve got two more floors to cover.”

Most of the group turned back towards the door, but Aniseed didn’t move. She stood by the teacher’s platform, arms still folded, surveying the room like it was a lump of dough she couldn’t wait to knead into submission.

“My ancestor was the first Royal Chef of Flavor,” she announced to no one in particular. “Before the academy was even founded. Lord Saline Mint. I believe they named this room after him.”

“Really?” Hyacinth sounded genuinely interested. “I didn’t know any of the classrooms have names.”

“They don’t,” Razz said. “Not anymore. Or if they do, no one uses them.”

“It’s still an incredible accomplishment,” Hyacinth said hastily. “But I can see why we started referring to the rooms according to the discipline. It’s easier to say, ‘the Flavor classroom’ than…”

She looked at Aniseed questioningly.

“The Lord Saline Mint Space for the Education of Magical Flavor,” Aniseed supplied, her voice clipped and cold.

“Doesn’t that just roll off the tongue?” Caramelle smiled sweetly. “I can’t imagine why we don’t use the full title. Perhaps no one associates the name ‘Mint’ with ‘Flavor’ these days.”

The temperature in the classroom seemed to drop by several degrees. Aniseed sneered at Caramelle, but before she could deliver whatever verbal missile she was concocting, Cardamom raised his hands.

“History is important,” he said smoothly, his rich voice even more effective than Hyacinth’s at dispelling tension. “Not to mention fascinating. But baking is also about the future. Let’s move on to the other floors, shall we? I’ve prepared a small demonstration in the Presentation classroom of how my chosen discipline can help you break new ground in the baking world.”

Hyacinth’s eyebrows rose. “A demonstration? Well done, Cardamom. Going above and beyond for our first-years.”

“Better make it quick, Coulis.” Razz led the group out the door, stopping in the hall to turn back and wiggle his eyebrows conspiratorially. “Because after the classrooms… then it’s time to meet Queen Penelope.”