Less than a minute later, he had tied on his apron and rolled up his sleeves and was announcing the day’s menu.
“We’ll do sweet potatoes in fall. Today, I’ll make a simple dessert!”
“Dessert?! Yippee!” Blue exclaimed like a tiny, overjoyed child. They had climbed onto the table to stand right next to Carson, and the two of them were appearing to be fast friends already.
“First we’ll peel the potatoes. Step back, Blue, I’m using a knife!”
Carson was always running around the garden like a madman, breaking vases and things, but he seemed at home in the kitchen. He was quite smartly peeling perfect strips off the potatoes, smiling as Blue studied every movement of his hands. He could have roasted the potatoes in the oven, but Brigitte assumed he had changed the menu based on their earlier conversation.
When she saw the frying pan he’d gotten out, she understood immediately. He intended to use the smallest flame possible to make the trial easier for her.
All the servants are so thoughtful toward me…
Warmth spread through her chest. It was thanks to their kindness that she had been able to avoid encountering fire for so many years, despite living among people contracted with fire spirits.
But because of her, there wasn’t a single fireplace in the cottage. Cold winds always blew from the north in winter, chilling the Kingdom of Field, and she got through the yearly cold spell by wearing layer upon layer of clothes and tucking magic fire stones in her pockets. The servants did the same—although she knew it was more inconvenient for them.
The more she thought about it, the more determined she was to overcome her fear. She stuck her head over the counter the servants usually used and peered around the kitchen. Carson wasn’t using fire yet. She should have been calm, but her heart was already pounding—she was frustrated with herself.
“Miss Brigitte?”
“I’m fine, Sienna. Just a worrywart,” she said, keeping her tone light to hide her anxiety from her sharp attendant.
Carson’s hands never stopped moving. He was rolling mashed yellow potato flesh into balls.
“Sweet potato dumplings?”
“Correct!”
He smiled boyishly. Brigitte loved sweet potato dumplings. He’d been making them for her since he was a little boy. He melted a pat of butter in a cast-iron pan before setting the disc-shaped dumplings in neat rows. He threw Brigitte a quick glance before softly intoning a magical name and lighting the range with fire magic. From where she was standing, she could hardly see the flames.
Nevertheless—
I can’t breathe…
It was as if a strand of floss was tightening around her throat.
“They look so good!” Blue exclaimed.
The dumplings were caramelizing in the butter, sending up a savory scent as the butter sizzled appetizingly.
Brigitte knew that.
She knew that, but…
Why is even this too much?
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her instincts were telling her to plug her ears, too, but she resisted. If she gave in now, she would never overcome her fear.
Those few minutes felt absurdly long, but finally the cooking was done. Carson turned off the flame and arranged three dumplings each on four plates. He topped them with a drizzle of honey from the pot and a scoop of ice cream chilled with magic ice stones.
Blue was shaking, perhaps from excitement.
“Enjoy!” Carson said as he set the plates before them.
Blue scooped up some of the golden sweet potato topped with melting honey and ice cream and took a bite.
“It’s so good!” the child announced, steam and cold air escaping their mouth.
“Right? It’s easy. You can make it at home in a steel pan. The mistress here always eats about ten of ’em.”
“Carson, I believe you might be a genius,” the child said.
“I am. I am the king of the kitchen.”
Blue puffed their cheeks out and swung their feet while Carson smiled proudly.
Brigitte took a bite of a dumpling she’d cut in four. Today’s version had chopped nuts as a delicious accent.
…At least, it should have been delicious. But she couldn’t really taste it.
“Miss, are you all right?”
“Of course.”
The instant Brigitte forgot to keep her facade up, Sienna noticed. That was how well she knew her. Brigitte smiled and put the rest in her mouth.
After resting for a few minutes, Blue suggested they go outside.
It was just before noon, and the garden was horribly humid and hot. Carson and Blue flapped their shirt collars, earning a sharp “Watch your manners!” from Sienna.
But Brigitte was freezing cold—except for her left hand, which was boiling. She could almost imagine it burning underneath her glove.
The hand my father grabbed that day…
No matter how many times she had apologized and begged for forgiveness, he had refused to let her escape from the blazing flames.
She could hear her own body cooking.
She could hear the terrifying sound of her skin burning and her flesh turning to charcoal.
She could see her father’s cold eyes observing her as she suffered, covered in sweat and tears and snot—
In that moment, little Brigitte had realized something.
To her father, she was no more than a useless sack of meat.
“Sienna and Carson, you have red hair. That means you can use fire magic, doesn’t it?” Blue asked.
“Yes.”
“Just a little.”
“Then use your magic, or make your spirit appear.”
Sienna and Carson exchanged glances, and Brigitte saw it. Or she should have, but for some reason, she couldn’t focus. Everything was wavering like a mirage.
“Not to attack her. Just to show her a few flames,” Blue said.
“Please,” Brigitte added. “I’ll be fine.”
She smiled, but for some reason, Sienna said nothing. Carson seemed equally stunned.
Brigitte looked at them questioningly.
“Miss, your face…”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
…Huh?
Suddenly, the world turned upside down. She was panicking. She could hear screaming in the distance. But it was so far away. She was terrified she would keep falling, all alone, forever. Desperately, she reached out a hand.
Someone, please…
The second someone grabbed her falling hand—
“You idiot!”
Her eyes popped open.
Yuri was holding her in his arms and panting. He stared at her, his handsome face distorted.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His hair, more beautiful than the bluest sky, was stuck to his cheeks by sweat. As she gazed into his citrine eyes, she was riveted by the powerful light in them.