Laura could hear nothing but the sound of her own heartbeat, drowning out everything else. The Harvest Feast was well underway, and a crowd had already gathered in the square, checking out the market stalls and the competition tables.

Everyone was waiting for the judges to finish their rounds. The competitors were eager to find out which of them would take a medal home, and the crowds could barely wait to taste the desserts on display.

A cool hand found Laura’s under the table, and she turned to see Ambrose’s familiar smile.

“Don’t be nervous. I’m sure they’ll love your chocolates as much as I do.”

She turned her palm, lacing her shaking fingers through his while waving away any thoughts about needing to define their relationship. “Easy for you to say. Your cakes taste amazing.”

“They have to, with how much butter and honey I added in. Those two together work better than magic could ever hope to.” He gave her hand a long squeeze before letting go and standing up. “Here they come. Put your best smile on and dazzle them like you did me.”

That made her chuckle a little, and by the time the judges did get to her table, she found that her nervousness had dissipated. They were all experts in their fields, from the royal cooks to retired masters of the craft, and it was always difficult to read their expressions.

Laura did her best to present her assorted chocolates, highlighting the appeal of each variety. The ones filled with blackberries and sage-infused wine would be a great addition to any garden party, while those with rose petals and cherry liquor were sure to be enjoyed at a late-night event. The dark chocolates she saved for last. They were both her and Ambrose’s favorites, as she’d mixed some of the wildflower jelly into the spiced apple juice she’d used for the filling.

They were uncommon combinations, and the judges spent a long time asking her questions and whispering among themselves before they finally moved on to Ambrose.

He weathered their onslaught of queries with no sign of nervousness, and it was clear to see that he had made a great impression even before they’d tasted his cakes. His confidence was well deserved, fueled by both his previous success and the knowledge that his skills were indeed stellar.

Laura could finally allow herself to admire him now that the animosity she’d harbored for so long had trickled away. Even more, she enjoyed being the only person around who could measure up to him. Those two silver medals she kept in her shop were a testament to that, and so would be the one she was about to take home.

It was only a matter of time until she found out which one it would be, and the waiting was even worse than the judges’ scrutiny.

The crowds had washed in like the tide, sampling the contest entries and asking questions, but no amount of their attentions and compliments was enough to take her mind off the impending announcement. Not even Eleanor and her younger siblings could serve as enough of a distraction.

By the time the announcements did come, Laura was deaf to the world.

They started calling in the honorable mentions, most names she vaguely recognized, then moved on to the medals. She was so antsy that she messed up the count, so when Ambrose’s name was called, she couldn’t tell anymore what prize they were on.

She looked over to him, and he greeted her with a winning smile that told her nothing at all. His lips moved, but a wave of applause drowned out most of his words. All Laura could hear was something about the golden medal.

Before she had a chance to consider having lost to him once again, he swept her into a hug, picking her up and twirling her around.

“You won the golden medal!” he nearly yelled in her ear, before kissing her cheek and setting her back down.

She was dizzy. Whether from the spinning or the disbelief, she could not tell, but she clung onto Ambrose for dear life. Eventually, the world came to a halt, and words started making sense again.

Her uncle had made his way through the crowd and was congratulating her, as was her aunt, whom Laura had not seen in months. Eleanor was at her side, too, all but jumping with glee. And Ambrose was still there, holding her hands and smiling.

“Now that you’ve won, you need to think what wish you want me to grant you. Would you like a fresh loaf of bread every day? Or a lifetime supply of spiced cookies? Maybe my firstborn?”

Laura laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. The relief, the joy, and the absurdity of the moment all combined into something sweet and effervescent. “We’re a little young to think of children already. Why don’t we start with the dance tonight and move on from there?”

His smile dipped for a moment before coming back in full force. “You’re going to dance with me even though I didn’t win the bet?”

She shrugged. “I’m a terrible dancer, though, so you might want to reconsider.”

“You can step on my feet all night, and I won’t even feel it.”

There he went again, saying the sappy things only a bespelled fool would have no shame to utter. But Laura knew for sure that the only spell floating between them was a love they had yet to perfect the recipe for.