Lucien's first day as "kitchen apprentice" began at sunrise—though in Eternal Twilight, sunrise and sunset were the same thing: a soft wash of pink that shimmered endlessly across the horizon.
The kitchen smelled faintly of cinnamon and melted snowflakes. Matron Elsbeth stood by the stove, sleeves rolled up, eyes sharp as knives.
"First rule," she said, shoving a wooden spoon into his hand. "The stew stirs you as much as you stir it. Magic likes balance. Second rule: don't touch that spice rack unless you want everyone sneezing glitter for a week. Third rule—"
A loud crash echoed. Lucien turned. He had already knocked over a basket of dough, sending pale lumps rolling across the floor.
Elsbeth sighed. "Third rule: pick up after yourself."
---
Half an hour later, Lucien had burned bread, nearly boiled over the stew, and managed to coat himself in flour so thoroughly he looked like a snowman's cousin.
Christopher peeked in, laughing so hard he nearly doubled over. "Matron! Looks like we've got ourselves a walking loaf! Careful, Lucien, or Feld will try to eat you."
Sure enough, Feld waddled in, eyes lighting up. "Is it bread? Is he bread? I love bread! Hello, Mr. Bread!"
Lucien groaned. "I'm never living this down, am I?"
From the table, Finn lounged lazily, smirking. "At least you're contributing something. Even if it's comedy."
Noelle was perched on a stool nearby, enjoying the spectacle. "You'll get better, Lucien. Everyone starts somewhere."
"Not me," Finn interrupted smoothly, flicking his hair. "I was a natural at everything."
Christopher snorted. "A natural at flirting with Noelle, maybe."
Finn nearly fell out of his chair. "What?! That's absurd—completely absurd—"
Bell peeked over her book, eyes wide with innocent curiosity. "But… it's true, isn't it? Everyone knows."
"EVERYONE DOES NOT KNOW!" Finn snapped, turning red.
Aurora raised an elegant brow. "We all know."
Holly walked by with an armful of firewood. "Oh, absolutely. It's painfully obvious."
Noelle blinked, utterly lost. "Wait—what are we talking about?"
"NOTHING," Finn barked, shooting death glares at everyone.
Lucien stifled a laugh. He was still dusted in flour, but suddenly felt a lot lighter.
---
Later that evening, when the chaos had quieted, Lucien stepped outside. The sky stretched endlessly above him, awash in shimmering twilight colors. No sun, no stars—just a dreamlike glow that never faded.
Someone shifted nearby. He glanced to the side and saw Eve, sitting on the steps, stitching quietly under the sky's glow. Her face was unreadable.
Lucien hesitated, then forced himself to speak. "Uh… nice… weather?"
Eve didn't look up. "The barrier makes it the same every day."
"Right. Yeah. Same weather. Cool." Lucien's voice cracked. He coughed, mortified.
She finally glanced up, one eyebrow twitching in the faintest hint of amusement. Then she returned to her embroidery without another word.
Lucien stared at the sky, trying to pretend his cheeks weren't burning.
---
When Noelle finally gathered her scarf and announced, "Time to head back," Feld cheerfully waddled after her, humming an off-key tune.
"Don't burn down the cottage, Lucien!" Feld called. "If you do, at least save the cookies!"
The others gradually drifted to their own tasks—Holly tending the firewood, Christopher hauling barrels, Aurora scribbling in a ledger, Finn sulking in a corner.
Left to his own devices, Lucien decided to explore the cottage.
It was… a mistake.
Every hallway looked the same. Every rune-carved door glowed faintly, but none seemed familiar. He tried counting doors, then lost track after twelve. Somewhere, he thought he heard muffled singing. Another turn led him into a stairwell that twisted endlessly.
By the time he realized he had completely forgotten his room number, panic set in.
"Oh no," he muttered. "I live here now and I'm already homeless."
In desperation, he tried a door marked with a snowflake sigil. It opened into a narrow chute.
He leaned forward to peek. The floor vanished beneath his feet.
"Waaahhh!"
He tumbled down, bouncing off smooth walls, spinning helplessly before landing in a huge pile of freshly washed linens.
Fwump.
Dazed, he looked up. Holly stood over him, hands on her hips, scowling.
"Of course it's you."
Lucien groaned. "I was… exploring."
"You were falling."
"Exploring… very fast."
Holly rolled her eyes but extended a hand to haul him up. "If you're going to be useless, at least fold the sheets you crushed."
Lucien coughed out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes, ma'am."