The bells of Rosevale Town rang from dawn.
Ribbons fluttered from windows, and stalls bloomed along cobbled streets like flowers in full spring. Banners in saffron and green hung from every post—marking the annual Festival of First Harvest, a beloved tradition dating back centuries.
And for the first time in its quiet, quaint history…
Lavinia Deveraux would enter the town's Great Cooking Contest.
"Miss Lavinia, you're going to enter, right?"
Tilda, the little neighbour girl with a crown of braids and smudged flour cheeks, tugged at Lavinia's sleeve outside the café. She looked scandalized at the idea of her idol not joining.
"She's gonna win…" mumbled her older brother Ben, mouth full of yesterday's leftover almond croissant. "No one bakes like the café witch."
"Hey I'm not a witch…" Lavinia on defence –playfully, lips twitching with amusement. "But I suppose I could enter... for fun."
She didn't say it aloud, but her hands itched to compete. To be seen for more than her past. To be something more than a runaway princess with secrets trailing behind her like a torn hem.
This was a chance.
**
Booths lined the streets: sausages sizzling over open flame, candied nuts tossed with cinnamon, fruit glazes bubbling in cauldrons like potions.
The cooking contest was set center stage—a large circular pavilion shaded with silken cloth. Contestants were given three prompts: one dish to celebrate the harvest, one baked good, and a surprise challenge revealed at the end.
Sir Corwin watched from the edge, arms crossed, expression somewhere between anxious father and over-invested knight.
Elias, of course, was at the judge's table.
"You're judging?" Lavinia blinked at him.
Elias smirked. "They needed someone with a refined palate and no personal ties."
"I'm your landlady."
"Doesn't matter."
Lavinia narrowed her eyes. "Play favourites and I'll salt your coffee beans."
**
Round One: Harvest Dish
Contestants hustled to prepare hearty dishes using fall vegetables and grains. Lavinia's hands were quick, confident, as she prepared her roasted squash and thyme risotto with charred corn and a poached egg yolk set like sunshine in the center.
The aromas filled the air. Her neighbours watched eagerly as the judges sampled, and Elias's fork paused mid-air after his first bite.
She looked away when their eyes met.
His lips curled upward, just slightly.
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Round Two: Baked Goods
This was her domain.
Flour dusted her cheeks like war paint. Her hands moved like they remembered every emotion they'd ever kneaded into dough.
She made honey-lavender shortcakes with whipped cream and plum compote.
As she plated, she saw a familiar nobleman's sigil flash in the crowd—gold on violet.
The Crown's Whisper was back.
He lingered near the edge of the crowd but didn't approach. Corwin stepped into position between him and Lavinia immediately. The man only tilted his head in quiet threat—and then vanished into the crowd again.
Lavinia's hands didn't shake as she presented her shortcakes.
But her eyes were stormy.
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Round Three: The Surprise Challenge
Each contestant was handed one secret ingredient.
Lavinia opened her cloth-covered basket.
Fresh cinnamon-bark and dried cherries.
A slow smile spread across her face.
"Easy." She murmured.
Her final dish was Cherry-Cinnamon Swirled Pastry Roses, shaped into delicate blossoms, glazed in brown butter, and served with a vanilla bean drizzle.
She could hear the murmurs from the crowd before the judges even took a bite.
Elias closed his eyes as he chewed, then whispered something to the head judge.
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The Bell Rang.
A hush fell over the square.
The festival's mayor stood up and announced, "And the winner of this year's Festival Cooking Contest, by unanimous vote…"
He grinned.
"Miss Lavinia of the Steam & Sugar Café!"
The square exploded in applause. Lavinia blinked—then smiled, wide and real.
Tilda shrieked. "I TOLD YOU SHE'D WIN!"
Corwin clapped so hard his gauntlets rattled.
Elias just gave her a long, unreadable look—and a single, solemn nod.
LATER THAT NIGHT
The café glowed with lantern light. Laughter echoed from the upstairs windows. A wreath of golden wheat was tied to the café door, the winner's emblem.
Lavinia stood at the window, her hands still faintly dusted with flour.
Elias approached with two mugs of cider.
"You were brilliant." He beamed, passing her one.
"Thank you." She smiled back. "It felt… right. And good."
They stood in companionable silence, looking out at the sleepy town square.
Then Elias added quietly. "He was there."
"I know."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." She answered gently. "Not tonight. Tonight I'm just the café girl who won the town's heart."
He smiled. "Then I'll raise a mug to that."
They clinked mugs.
And in that warm, quiet moment, the ghost of the crown faded just a little.
**
The bells hadn't rung yet.
Morning mist still clung to the cobblestones like silk scarves, and Rosevale was barely stirring.
But inside Steam & Sugar Café, the kitchen was already alive with the scent of burnt butter, coffee, and… masculine rivalry.
Lavinia descended the stairs in her robe, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
And paused.
At the stove stood Sir Corwin—in full armor save his gauntlets—clumsily flipping something in a skillet. A mess of flour covered the counter. Nearby, Elias had one eyebrow raised, preparing what looked to be an unnecessarily delicate plate of eggs in pastry cups.
Lavinia frowned. "What… are you doing?"
Corwin straightened. "Breakfast."
Elias didn't look up. "Contest, actually."
Corwin scowled. "You said it wasn't a contest."
"I lied."
Lavinia sighed—then smiled. "Proceed."
**
Corwin's Attempt: Rustic Farm Breakfast with Fried Sage Butter.
Result: Not bad.
He fumbled with spoons, but his heart was in it.
He served her a hearty plate of toasted rye bread, griddled potatoes with thyme, and fried eggs drizzled in sage-infused browned butter. Burnt on one edge. Slightly salty. Somehow charming.
Corwin cleared his throat. "I… thought you might miss real, soldier food."
Lavinia took a bite.
"It tastes like a cavalry camp." She said softly. "But in a good way."
He grinned.
**
Elias's Attempt: Soft Cheese & Chive Pastry Cups with Microgreens
Result: Hmm...
Of course, Elias's plate was a masterpiece.
Delicate phyllo pastry shells, filled with herbed cream cheese, topped with a barely poached egg, microgreens, and a dash of smoked paprika. Served beside a cup of rich dark roast, his signature blend.
"You used my imported phyllo…" Lavinia noted.
"You're welcome."
She took a bite and hummed. "Exquisite."
Corwin narrowed his eyes.
"You bribed the coffee beans."
"I bribed the universe with taste." Elias shot back.
☆ Lavinia's Verdict ☆
She pushed both plates aside and stood.
Then returned a moment later with a third.
Warm brioche, sliced in half and pan-toasted with butter, spread with apricot preserves and whipped goat cheese. Topped with thyme and orange zest.
She sat down.
"This," she said, biting into her own breakfast, "is how you win me."
The men stared.
She chewed serenely.
Corwin leaned to Elias. "She's unbeatable."
"She's a Cafe Witch." Elias said. "Of course she is."
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Recipe: Corwin's Rustic Sage-Butter Breakfast
Ingredients:
- 2 slices dark rye bread
- 2 medium potatoes, diced
- 1 tbsp fresh thyme
- 2 eggs
- 2 tbsp butter
- 6–8 fresh sage leaves
- Salt and pepper
Instructions:
Boil potatoes in salted water until just tender (about 5–7 minutes). Drain. In a skillet, heat 1 tbsp butter. Add potatoes and thyme. Sauté until golden and crispy. In a separate pan, heat remaining butter. Add sage leaves. Fry until crisp. Remove leaves and set aside. Crack in eggs and fry in the sage butter until edges are crisp and yolks runny. Toast rye bread slices until golden.6. Plate with the potatoes, top with fried eggs, drizzle the sage butter, and crumble crispy sage leaves on top. Salt to taste.
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