Chapter 1

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// Country of Rusmala, mild north// Town of Belleruse, edge of the Umatilla forest //

—— Maeve ——

"Eve, don't touch those they're hot." Dione hissed, taking a swipe at her little sister's curious hands.

The goodies were still sweltering on the oven tray, an alluring scent rising from them.

Maeve quickly withdrew her reach, scowling as she turned to go find her mother. She didn't like hanging around in the front with Dione anyway, it was boring and noisy. Dione was always cranky, too.

"Mamav," she smiled when she spotted her mother at the kitchen counter.

Her gaze fell to her mother's hands, which were skillfully twisting and kneading a new wad of dough.

Sometimes if she concentrated hard enough, Maeve could sniff out which recipe mamav was making. This time around though, it was probably bread. The townsfolk took a liking to the bakery's loaves, especially during Dyulsar— when it got colder, and people weren't making enough to purchase pastries or deserts.

"Mamav, can I help make the next batch of Kolguie Amaen?" Maeve offered, burying her face in her mothers bengaline skirt. She inhaled the warm, nostalgic scent of Étoilée— the town's most prized bakery, and her family's pride and joy.

"I'm sorry, moon, not today. We're busy, more than usual. There would be no one for you to help." Dyna spoke, a thick Kevanian accent coating her words like honey.

Maeve hugged her mother's side tightly, as Dyna kept herself busy at the counter.

"But I'm ten now. Am I not old enough to work with the stone fire all by myself?" She pleaded, staring up at her mother with wide eyes.

"I thought we agreed on twelve?" Maeve's lip curled down.

"That's, that's two whole calendars away! How am I supposed to wait that long?" Maeve pulled harder on her mother's skirt, wanting desperately to do something other than dawdle around the bakery. It was boring, and the cloth of her dress was beginning to stick to her skin, slick with sweat. The large stone fire wasn't helping.

"Well I—" her mother was cut off by a loud bang as the kitchen door collided with a nearby wall.

In strutted Dione, her nest of red curly hair piled high atop her head in a bun, some wispy strands of baby hairs sticking out here and there. Under her eyes were two dark bags that reached so far down her cheeks that they covered up some of her freckles. Seems she couldn't handle the hustle and bustle of the customers as well as mamav could.

"Leave mamav alone already. She's busy. We both are, so why don't you go outside and play in the snow." Dione snapped at her younger sister.

Maeve made a face, fixing Dione with a mean stare.

"Ah ma ilesa, there is no need to be so brash." Dyna shook her head at her eldest daughter's behavior.

"But ma, Eve should be outside with her friends, not in here pestering us! She's a chepi." Dione pointed to Maeve, who was still clinging to her mother's side.

"Actually there's no one to play with," Maeve said matter-of-factly. "Phoebe and Rhea are sick with a cold. Leda is out of town helping her mom, and Atlas—" Maeve's ramblings were cut off by the gentle nudge of her mother's knee against her back.

"I think Dione is right. You should go get some fresh air, you've been cooped up in the shop all day." Dyna laughed when Maeve simply clung tighter to her.

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