Between fulfilling orders, preparing for the contest, and sneaking in a few necessary naps, there was barely any free time for Laura to think about Ambrose. But as the morning of the third day found her measuring candied lemons into a clean jar, her idle mind decided to replay the scene of their last encounter once more.

Of course he had to stroll in like he owned the street, tossing around compliments as if he wasn’t her biggest competition and ordering something as ridiculously out of the way as wildflower jelly. And of course she had to accept the challenge as if her pride depended on it. He must have known she would.

It was impossible to figure out his intentions, but whether he had meant it or not, the extra work he had given her was taking up precious time.

She sighed, tightening the lid on the jar and setting it aside. The order was nearly complete, save for the wildflower jelly, which she hadn’t even started working on yet. The thought of spending half of her upcoming free day foraging for the perfect flowers made her groan inwardly, but she pushed it aside. She didn’t want to worry about that when things were finally starting to go her way. 

For once, her preparations for the Harvest Feast contest were going swimmingly. When it came to handling chocolate, she was second to none in the city, and the liquor chocolates she had finished the night before were a testament to her prowess. She had no doubt that they were her best entry yet, and if the impeccable technique was not enough, the magical taste was sure to impress the judges.

Her great-aunt’s old grimoire sat on the workbench, a reassuring presence in her small workshop. She had spent weeks working on the potion she’d mixed into the liquor, refining the taste and texture until it was as close to perfection as she could get it. And it was marvelous.

It was also, technically, legal. There was no rule against spells or potions; she had read the rulebook back and forth multiple times to make sure. But Belarune City was the magic capital of the world, after all, and with nearly half the population bearing at least a little talent for it, magic was an intrinsic part of everything. There were only a handful of spells that were outright forbidden by the Magisterium, and Laura was pretty sure hers was not on that list; her great-aunt would not keep such dangerous recipes in her grimoire, surely.

Besides, it wasn’t like she would just hand her creations to people without testing them first.

The bells above the door jingled, and a familiar voice reached Laura even before she stepped out of the workshop. Her mood lifted the instant she laid eyes on her visitor.

Eleanor smiled back at her, brandishing a paper bag that bore the unmistakable seal of Waycaster’s Bakery.

“You’re committing treason, you know,” Laura said, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust.

Her friend shrugged, a twinkle of mischief lighting up her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with sampling the competition’s work. I made sure no one noticed me coming in here, so they’ll have no idea I’m secretly your agent.” She crossed behind the counter, handing Laura the rather heavy bag and pulling a stool to sit on. “It’s a shame, though. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of that pretty boy of yours, but they have him working in the back this morning. His good looks are wasted on the ovens.”

Laura rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress a tiny smile. “Pretty he might be, but I want nothing to do with him. And if you’re so interested in him, why didn’t you eat your pastries there instead of coming to little old me?”

She put on her sulky face and crossed her arms, waiting for Eleanor’s usual string of apologies. They were used to joking around like this, although it was becoming a rarer sight with each passing year. Now, with one of them working her days away in the shop and the other a freshly graduated mage struggling to score an apprenticeship, it was a wonder they managed to meet at all.

Eleanor laughed, her curls bouncing as she shook her head. “Oh, Laura, you know you’re my one and only. Ambrose might be easy on the eyes, but he’s got nothing on your chocolates. Speaking of which…” She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “How’s the contest entry coming along?”

Laura hesitated, glancing back toward the workshop. She was aching to tell someone about her progress, and Eleanor was her best friend. If she couldn’t keep her secret, no one could.

She leaned in, lowering her voice. “I think I finally got the proportions right. The first batch of chocolates is ready, and I’ve been meaning to show them to you.”

“Only show them to me? I want to taste them!”

“I thought you’d say that. And I’ll let you, of course. But there’s one tiny detail you need to know first.” Laura grabbed her friend’s hand and led her into the workshop.

The room was still a mess, with jars of ingredients and scattered notes covering the workbench, but the tray of liquor chocolates sat front and center, immediately catching Eleanor’s eye. She hurried to them, picking one up and inspecting it.

“What a funny shape,” she remarked, turning it over in her fingers. “Is this supposed to be a heart?”

Laura only nodded, waiting for her friend to finish her inspection.

“It’s very smooth and shiny, if a little plain. You could add something on top—maybe some of that gold leaf you used on the candies you made for my birthday?” She moved it to the other hand, inspecting her fingers. “It’s not melting easily.”

“That’s what the tempering is for.”

“Is the inside liquid?”

“Yes! I filled them with cherry liquor,” Laura said, barely able to contain her excitement, “with just a splash of magic.”

Eleanor’s expression shifted from wonder to concern, then back to curiosity. “Tell me more.”

“I found this recipe in my great-aunt’s grimoire,” Laura explained, her voice tinged with pride. “It’s a potion that’s supposed to evoke general feelings of warmth and nostalgia. It took a while to find the correct proportions, but I finally got the taste where I want it. The only problem is, the spell doesn’t seem to work on me.”

Her friend nodded. “That usually only happens with targeted potions. The maker is immune to their effects. I’d like to have a look at the recipe later, if it’s alright with you. But for now, I believe you need me to taste those chocolates for you.” It was not a question, and her mischievous smile made that clear.

“Are you sure?”

Eleanor waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, come on. I’m officially a certified mage, it’s not my first time dealing with magic. What’s the worst that could happen?” And with that, she popped the chocolate into her mouth, biting into it to release the filling.

“Well?” Laura asked, watching the reactions chasing each other on her friend’s face.

There was a quirked brow at first, then pursed lips, followed by a relaxation that didn’t feel quite natural. Then, Eleanor’s face bloomed into the most radiant smile. “This is… incredible. You are incredible.”

Laura’s heart leaped. “Really?”

Eleanor nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at Laura. “You’re radiant. Glorious. Has anyone told you how utterly divine you are?”

Laura’s stomach dropped. “Eleanor?”

Her friend smiled dreamily. “Yes, my love?”

A million thoughts raced through Laura’s mind. This was not supposed to happen. The notes had reassured her that it was an innocent potion meant to lift spirits, not the kind that made someone fall in love with the first person they saw. Those spells had been illegal for at least twenty years.

She ran over to the large tome, opening it at the marked page.

Eleanor followed her around the workshop, offering sonnets and dramatic declarations. She was grabbing at Laura, trying to hold her hand or pull her into an embrace with incredible force for such a dainty creature.

Reading the crooked writing was hard enough without fending off an enamored girl, and it took Laura a few minutes to realize that the list of ingredients was not the one she had followed the previous night.

With trembling fingers, she turned the page to the next recipe. There were all the herbs she remembered using. The first third of them were the same as the previous potion’s, so it was easy to see how she might have mixed them up. She looked higher and felt the whole world slipping away from her. The title read A Draught for Love, and the brief description under it was rather too clear about its usage.

It turned out that her great-aunt did keep forbidden spells in her grimoire.

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. This was a complete disaster, and it was all her fault.

Without any resistance, Eleanor managed to land a few kisses on Laura’s forehead and temples, stopping only when the object of her affections crumpled in on herself. “What’s wrong, dearest?” she asked, her voice soft as she patted Laura’s back. “Are you tired? A walk would do you good, you know.”

Laura straightened abruptly, grabbing Eleanor’s hand before any more loving gestures could rain down on her. “That’s a great idea. Why don’t I walk you to the main street so you can take a carriage home?”

Eleanor pouted. “But I don’t want to leave you. You’re my everything!”

“Thank you.” Laura forced a smile, though her patience was wearing thin. “You’re very dear to me, too, and that’s why you have to go back for now. You’ve had quite an eventful morning, and you should rest.” Seeing that no amount of cajoling worked, she tried the one thing that had always worked on Eleanor, ever since they were younger. “Do it, or I shan’t play with you again.”

A loud gasp broke free of Eleanor’s lips, and her eyes were bright with tears. “Fine!” she cried, pulling her hand free. “But you have to promise you’ll call on me tomorrow.”

If that was all it took to make her friend listen, Laura was ready to make a hundred promises. It only took one to get what she needed, and Eleanor was happy enough to walk out and hail the carriage herself, though she did take her sweet time with her goodbye hug.

“Don’t forget about our meeting,” she said, finally letting go and climbing into the cab.

Laura waved her off, hoping with all her heart that she wouldn’t change her mind and come back. Even after the carriage turned the bend and disappeared from sight, she still wasn’t completely reassured.

There wasn’t any time to waste, though. She turned on her heel and all but ran back to the shop, making a mental list of all the things she had to put to rights: she had to destroy the cursed chocolates, find a way to cure Eleanor’s infatuation, and come up with a new recipe for the contest, all in time for the Harvest Feast.

The bell cried in alarm when she burst through the door, the sound following her all the way to the back of the shop. She was ready to grab the tray of chocolates and toss them into the fire, but her plans came to a screeching halt the moment she stepped into the workshop.

There, bent over the spelled confections, his hair falling charmingly over his face, was Ambrose Waycaster. And he had just put something into his mouth.

Laura groaned. “Oh, for the love of sugar!”