Emmy tucked her honey tresses behind her ear, pushing through the bustling crowds in the heat of a late summer afternoon, eager to reach her parent’s bakery. Happy shoppers, young couples, and elated children filled the town square, adding energy to the typically sleepy town. As the Yarn Spinstress, each year, the festival offered her the opportunity to show off her handiwork and make a few coins.

Even a handful of sales made the preparation worth it. Despite her title, her clients were few and far between—due to the connotation that her skills demanded at a hefty cost. Her festival booth allowed her to reach the everyday people of Falworth and add a bit of color to their day. As such, Emmy couldn’t be more delighted.

However, the Yarn Spinstress wasn’t alone in her frenzy to set up her display. Merchants across town came with their wares, attracting eager onlookers hours before the festival began. Each onlooker resulted in more hungry mouths looking to be fed. As such, Falworth Baking was full to bursting each year, with Emmy’s parents scrambling to accommodate each hungry visitor.

Clack!

Emmy’s boots stepped onto the familiar worn wood floors as excited shouts and the scent of bread bombarded her. As she expected, the young and old had all gathered for a taste of her father’s delightful bread.

"Emmy!” her mom shouted across the store as her daughter’s petite frame came into focus. “What about your booth?”

After embracing, Emmy reassured her mom that she left it in capable hands. “Miss Abigail is manning it for the time being. And Turrin set it all up this morning. So put me to work!”

Emmy swiftly donned an apron and slipped behind the counter to help assuage the onslaught of eager customers. Most of her time was spent at Golden Threads, as the humble workshop served as both her shop and her home. Still, she did her best to make time to see her parents and lend a hand when needed. Both of the Finchly children were excellent bakers, though they had yet to surpass their father.

Many of the townsfolk frequented their bakery, and it was the best place to do a business deal over a fluffy pastry or gossip among friends. As such, Emmy was well-known across town, if not for being the Yarn Spinstress, then for being a fixture at Falworth Baking. As she placed a customer's order at their table, Emmy spied a familiar face a few tables back.

“Hael!”

Her sociable brother was known to bring his fellow knights to visit and partake in a homemade lunch. Among the most frequent visitors was Hael. His intimidating stature and pure bulk may have made him appear unapproachable, but the second he opened his mouth, his tough appearance melted away. Despite being only a year younger than her, she thought he was “a nice boy” and a good friend to her brother. But she had enough tact to not say that to his face.

“Miss Emaline!” he called, rising from his chair to greet her properly. “How nice to see you. I didn’t think you’d be here today of all days. Your brother told me about your booth.”

“I’ll be out there before you know it. I just wanted to help with the lunch rush. I’m surprised my brother isn’t in tow.”

“Nah, not today. But I did bump into my boss here. Turns out we are both fans of carbs. You’d never know by lookin’ at him, though. I’m talkin’ buff,” Hael said, deadly serious.

“What nonsense are you spewing now?” a deep voice rang out from behind. Emmy spun around, finding herself staring into the same peridot eyes from a week past.

“Oh!” Emmy stepped back, a light blush painting her cheeks.

“Excuse me, I failed to introduce myself at our last encounter and thank you properly for the pastry. I’m Theo Radcliff.”

“It was my pleasure. Did you enjoy it?” she stumbled out.

Since their last encounter, she’d thought about his shining eyes a time or two more than she’d care to admit, wondering if she’d see him again. Her parents' bakery was the last place she imagined their next encounter. If he was from Falworth, how had she never seen him before?

“Quite. I came back for another.”

A familiar snicker registered in Theo’s ears. What the? He quickly turned his head to see none other than “commoner” Yuki holed up in the corner, eavesdropping on their conversation. I’m gonna kill him later.

“I’m so glad. It’s one of my favorites,” she said with enthusiasm. She could easily talk about snacks all day.

I wonder what’s going on over there, Yuki mused. He didn’t mention knowing the Yarn Spinstress when I mentioned her yesterday.

Shrugging it off, he continued to stuff his face with the beef stew and watch his friend interact with a female—it was always an entertaining sight. When it came to women, Theo was as stiff as his unbreakable sword. Yuki noted Emaline’s rosy cheeks and stopped eating in surprise.

Maybe he’s not too shabby after all.

“So, did you know that this is her parent’s bakery, boss?” Hael asked, eager to join the conversation again.

It is? Yuki and Theo wondered simultaneously.

“Yeah, I’ve been coming here since before I even met Turrin.”

“Turrin?” Theo asked, unsure of the connection.

With his eyes peeking out from his cloak, Yuki squinted in their direction.

Who is this Turrin fellow?

“Anyway, I should really get going. I can’t leave Miss Abigail by herself forever.” Emaline offered a cordial smile. “Nice to see you both. Please come visit us again soon.”

Yuki, still an uninvited onlooker, thought back to their last meeting. He compared her animated face and sideways smile to the serene and feminine smile she offered now. He wondered if it was the topic, or the company, or simply her lack of self consciousness that brought out that adorable sideways grin.

Which side, I wonder, is most “her.”

Theo, who grew up in the palace, had rarely visited town—ever since he became Royal Commander two years back. The new title may have come with the illusion of greater freedom, but in reality, he was a very busy man. Not that he minded this much; he was content with his work and his friendships at the palace. Notably, the idealistic prince and his pragmatic sister. But today, he had a taste of the outside world and discovered that he wished to fulfill her polite request.

Well, next time I get an evening free… Theo wondered how soon that would be.

“Probably time to get back to the barracks, boss.” Hael’s voice broke through Theo’s scattered thoughts.

“You’re right. And stop calling me boss.” Theo walked toward the door but paused to shoot Yuki a death glare before turning and exiting with a flourish.

“No can do, boss.”

“Fine, just not in front of the others.”

“You got it, boss.”

Oh, the things you see as common folk, Yuki thought before shrugging it off and inhaling the rest of his dish.

* * *

“I’m having the oddest day,” Emaline plopped into the chair next to Miss Abigail as shoppers passed by. On display, she had an assortment of handkerchiefs, shawls, and silk gloves. She had picked these items for their affordability and their ease of use in town. The crafty Miss Abigail had already sold about a third of their stock.

“Pray tell. I think we’ve sold enough that we can take a quick story break.”

“I saw this man today that I didn’t think I’d see again. Well, I don’t really know him, but I think he might know Turrin… And then there was this odd fellow with the hood of his cloak on, cooped up in the back of the cafe. And I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure I made that cloak… for the prince.”

Emmy recalled his brown eyes and sharp facial features… He almost looked like…

“Should we consult with the authorities?”

“No, I could be wrong… I think I’m just going crazy from stitching all night,” Emmy replied with a sigh, shaking the crazy notion from her head.

“I think you need a man,” Abigail said plainly.

“What?”

“Just because you're a Yarn Spinstress doesn’t mean you have to be a spinster.” Emaline gaped, but Abigail continued fearlessly, “Listen, dear, Albert is working on finding the ideal man for you. He would only pick the best men for you to meet, you know that.”

Restraining her irritation, Emaline inhaled deeply. “That’s very kind, but for the time being, I think I’ll have to pass on any… suitors he digs up from the abyss they were hiding in.”

“If you say so,” Abigail sighed, “But I’ll let you know if any good candidates arise.”

“Deal.” Emmy patted her friend's hand before sinking back into her chair and resting her eyes, letting the sun bake into her pale skin.

When Abigail was the young Yarn Spinstress, she devoted herself to her work, and she relished it. Every day, she worked nearly morning till night crafting radiant thread and learning intricate embroidery techniques. Each item she made shone with brilliance, and this alone was her reward.

Yet, as the years progressed, she longed for something more, something more human than the piles of cloth. The tight friendships she had had faded through the years, and she left behind her opportunities for young love. She simply wished Emmy to avoid the same pitfalls in her path and live a life full of connection and warmth.

Oh well, she still has plenty of time.

“Would you like to hear about your sales?” Abigail asked, already knowing her response.

"Oh yes.” Emmy snapped up as though revived. “You’re quite the sales lady, as usual.”

“That reminds me,” Abigail looked Emmy in the eyes, “There was a young man I’ve never seen before who bought an item or two. You just missed him.”