Elizabeth stood at the front of the small laboratory, her arms folded loosely as she looked at the three younger perfumers seated around the worktable.
Mrs. Ivelle had left less than ten minutes ago.
"You know enough. Teach them what you know."
Elizabeth still wasn't entirely convinced of that.
She picked up a small vial from the table.
"Before we start blending anything, you need to understand one thing," she said. "A good perfume isn't just a collection of things that smell nice."
The three of them listened attentively.
"It's a composition."
She placed the vial back down and picked up another.
"Every material has a role. Some create the first impression. Some build the heart of the fragrance. Others give it depth and make the scent last."
"Top, heart and base notes?" one of them asked.
Elizabeth nodded. "Exactly. But don't think of them as three separate boxes. They have to work together."
She moved toward the blotter strips laid across the table.
"If your opening is beautiful but disappears too quickly, you've created a perfume people remember for thirty seconds. If your base is too heavy, it'll bury everything that came before it."
She paused.
"Balance is the point."
One of the juniors leaned forward. "So how do we know when it's balanced?"
Elizabeth smiled slightly.
"You smell it. Then you smell it again."
A few of them laughed.
"I'm serious," she added. "Don't rush to decide whether you like a formula. Ask yourself what it's doing. What's too loud? What's missing? What changes during the dry-down?"
She picked up a strip and handed it to them.
"Start with that. Don't tell me whether you like it."
Her gaze moved between them.
"Tell me what you smell."
The questions came almost immediately.
Elizabeth answered each one patiently, occasionally smiling when someone made an observation she hadn't expected. One junior stood out to her—Arabella.
There was something familiar about the girl. The curiosity, the eagerness to understand every little detail. She reminded Elizabeth of herself when she was younger.
The lesson continued for a while before finally coming to an end.
---
Elizabeth made her way to Mrs. Ivelle's office, located at the far end of the building.
Unlike the laboratory, the large room was lined with shelves filled with bottles of different shapes and sizes—extracts, raw materials, fixatives, chemicals, and other ingredients used in perfumery.
Mrs. Ivelle had asked to see her after the lesson.
Elizabeth knocked before entering, though the door was already wide open.
"Come in," Mrs. Ivelle called.
She was seated behind her desk, reading through some research. At the sound of Elizabeth's footsteps, she lifted her gaze from the book.
Her eyes settled on Elizabeth, who was still standing by the doorway.
Mrs. Ivelle frowned.
"Have a seat, Elizabeth. Aren't your legs aching from all that standing?"