Lily Sweetie's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

Aldric Goldwheat reached for the coins. Then his eyes moved past them. "You baked all this in one night," he said. "With that little cart? No. You used a real oven." He looked across the square, toward the old pie shop with its sagging roof and cracked windows. A slow smile spread through his beard. "That shop isn't yours, girl. And baking in a place you don't own? The guild can shut you down. Take everything." Lily's hands went cold. He was right. She had no claim to the stove or the shop. She had only borrowed the fire while the owner slept, long gone. Aldric folded his arms over his belly. "Pay me the whole pile, and maybe I forget what I saw." "That's more than she owes." The voice came from behind the crowd. An old woman pushed through, small and round, gray hair pinned in a bun. She wore a brown apron over sleeves stitched with gold thread. Flour still dusted her hands. People stepped aside for her. Lily did not know her, but she knew the guild badge on the woman's collar. "Rosemary Butterworth," Aldric said. His smile fell. "This is warden business." "It is guild business," Rosemary said. "And I am guild master chef. That gives me a say." She walked to the old pie shop and rested her hand on its worn door. "I knew the baker who ran this place. He left years ago and never came back. No heir. No claim." She turned to face the crowd. "An empty shop helps no one. But a full one feeds the whole square." She faced Aldric. "I will vouch for her. Let the girl hold the shop. She pays the guild fee, same as any trader. That is the rule you like so much, isn't it?" Aldric's jaw worked. He looked at the crowd, at the coins, at the master chef's steady eyes. He knew he could not fight her in front of everyone. "The fee," he said at last. "Ten gold. For the shop, not the cart." Lily counted out ten coins and pressed them into his fat hand. He snatched them and shoved through the crowd, robe swinging. Rosemary knelt to Lily's height. Up close her eyes were kind behind small glasses. "The stove is yours now, child. But a shop is more than a stove." She reached into her bag and drew out a folded coat. Pastries were embroidered across it in gold and pink thread. "Put this on. If you want people to trust a shop, look like you own one." Lily slipped her arms into the coat. It fit. She stood taller in it. "Clean the windows," Rosemary said. "Fix that sign. Torpormire loves a sweet, but it loves a proper shop more." She patted Lily's cheek and walked off. Lily looked up at the sagging roof, the cracked glass, the faded letters. Hers now. And so much to fix.