7

You clear your throat. "Before I make an important announcement, I'd like to invite everyone here to visit Choice of Bread. Any visitors who mention the Bake-Off will get a ten percent discount all week!"

Unfortunately, the crowd seems to have realized that your performance was actually terrible. It's not clear anyone could hear your little speech—let alone the name of your bakery—over all the booing. Oh well, at least you tried.

After the booing dies down, you clear your throat. "Anyway, the council is throwing a party tonight at Drainor's Tavern. I hope you'll consider joining us for what is bound to be a delightful evening. And if you're not sure it's worth your time to attend, I have only one question for you: what could go wrong?"

Next Chapter

You don't have anything to say on my performance today?" you ask.

"No." She shakes her head. "It only matters that we are in the Bake-Off together, you and I. Your performance is your performance."

"Is that something you're supposed to say? Like it's in the Mistress—Thrall Guidebook…Rule One: never empathize with the thrall."

"Don't be silly, Aurel Dawnfowl. Mistresses have no rules."

You had your hands so full of chupacake-cabras that you had very little time to think about your contract with the queen. Now that the cake has cooled and the frosting hardened, you still remain a thrall.

"You could've controlled me that whole round, baking the chupacake-cabras or not baking them as you saw fit. But you let me do exactly what I wanted to do, without question. Thank you for that."

She smiles. "No need to thank me. The Bake-Off is yours to win or lose. I'm truly there to assist you in that endeavor. But I appreciate the sentiment. It's not often I get thanks."

As if to add an exclamation point to that sentence, a random passerby looks up, notices the queen, and stumbles into a sprint down an alley.

You both round the corner, and your bakery comes into sight. The OPEN sign hangs in clear view. This is when you remember you have an assistant, in the form of Draugr Jones, who was minding the shop in your absence.

Oh, the Living Gods

The queen holds up a hand to cut off your next word. "No excuses." Her voice drops an octave. "Go get changed."

Your body starts walking to your bedroom before you can think up something clever to say.

"You'll thank me later!" she calls up the stairs after you.

Maybe you will, maybe you won't, but you can't deny the power of command voice. You have to change into something. The only question is what?

Your wardrobe itself may be falling apart from age and decrepitude, but one should never judge a person's wardrobe by its…wardrobe. You lost the thread of that metaphor somewhere, but it's fine because your fancy clothes have all the threads you'll ever need.

Setting to with a vengeance, you pull out everything that glitters and glimmers and get to work.

Shiny!

Anyway, there's no doubt that the enduring presence of Drainor's on the Godstone tourism route is why Tira and the council suggested it as the host of an after-party. Despite its reputation, you're excited to see it for yourself as well. You've always been too busy with the bakery to go out carousing.

But despite how much you're looking forward to taking in the excitingly edgy ambiance, you don't even make it to the bouncer—a stout, muscular woman with two swords in each hand, which somehow manages to look terrifying and utterly ridiculous all at once—guarding the front door before a familiar figure steps from the shadows—again, is this Sun Yi's signature move or something?—and gestures you over.

"Sun Yi," you greet her. "Don't you have better things to do than follow me around?"

She smirks. "Believe me, I do." Then her smirk fades. "But seriously, I have so many better things to do. Ugh."

"Why are you here, then?"

Find Out Why

"To remind you the Carb Freeons pay, and not trifling amounts, for a baker to champion the carb-free truth." She pulls out a thick and filthy stack of lucre before stuffing it back into the folds of her clothes. "But you didn't even try to bake without carbs."

"I used carb-free water," you offer.

Sun Yi grimaces. "Yep. Please enjoy your lucre-free payout."

Well, at least you tried. Kind of.

Sun Yi leans toward you conspiratorially.

Ooh! There's More.

You guess she's referring to her "undying" shtick, but you're not going to justify it with a response, so instead you turn and face Drainor's Tavern. Or, more accurately, Drainor's Tavern's bouncer.

The bouncer holds up her beefy hand, which still has two swords in it.

"There's a five-lucre cover charge."

"I'm here by invitation from the city council," you say, puffing yourself up.

The bouncer's hand doesn't move.

You pull darkness from the abyss and focus it into an icy death stare.

The bouncer gulps and withers under the glare. It's hard for the bouncer to be intimidating when she's staring at the specter of death, whose sole focus is her.

"Uh, I don't think it'll be a problem if you just go on in," she says.

You don't reply back. A cheery "thanks!" would ruin the vibe. You simply walk past the bouncer, who's adjusting her collar.

"Impressive," the queen undying says as you walk together. "How'd you learn Death's Gaze?"

"You, all right," you confess. "I learned it by watching you."

Next

Nessia Grade isn't here. Seeing as she can probably taste the sweat and exhaled breath in this place, you don't blame her for declining the invite. Also absent is Fondant, who isn't the type to be caught cavorting with commoners. You know for a fact because back in school he used to say, "You know, Aurel Dawnfowl, I'm not the type to be caught cavorting with commoners, but for you I'll make an exception." Like you would ever use the word "cavort" seriously.

Well, you just arrived. What do you do first?