Chapter 37: Sweet Layers

【Lilith PoV】

The academy kitchen smelled like morning bread and hope.

I bounced through the doorway, clutching my recipe scroll.

Today I would bake a cake.

Eksu liked my stew—well, he smiled while eating it—so cake felt like the next logical experiment.

Flour sacks towered like snow-covered mountains.

Copper bowls gleamed on hooks.

I chose the biggest bowl.

Big bowl meant big happiness.

I measured sugar with a teacup.

I spilled half.

The floor sparkled like winter.

I laughed, grabbed a broom, and pushed sweetness into a neat hump.

Elizabeth slipped in behind me, footsteps light as gossip.

Her eyes flicked over the mess.

“You bake now?”

She folded her arms, braid swinging.

“Yes! A cake for Eksu!”

I clapped the bowl rim and sent a puff of flour into the air.

Elizabeth waved the cloud away.

“A bold move.”

She traced a heart on the counter dust.

I tilted my head.

“A bold what?”

“Gesture of affection.”

Her smile was sharp and clever.

I frowned, trying to parse “affection.”

I only knew I wanted Eksu to taste something nice.

He always looked tired.

Cake could fix tired.

Elizabeth tugged a jar of cocoa from the shelf.

She poured a dark stripe across the white flour heart.

“Too sweet is boring.”

She spoke calmly.

“Bitter wakes you up.”

I nodded.

Balance was good.

Cocoa smelled warm like rainy libraries.

We cracked eggs.

My first shell exploded.

Elizabeth caught the yolk mid-air with a spoon.

She winked.

I giggled.

We whisked.

The batter thickened.

I tasted a drop.

It buzzed on my tongue like tiny lightning.

“Needs fire essence.”

I gave my opinion.

Elizabeth’s eyebrow rose.

“Will it explode?”

“Only a little.”

She shrugged.

“Let’s risk excitement.”

I dribbled one crimson drop.

The bowl hissed.

Steam puffed.

No ceiling damage.

Success.

Elizabeth lined a tin with parchment.

She smoothed the batter with deliberate strokes, like painting territory.

I scattered rainbow sprinkles.

They bounced like tiny jewels.

Elizabeth pressed three chocolate shards into the center, forming the letters E K S.

I beamed.

“You spelled his name!”

“I claim him.”

Her voice was silky.

I blinked.

“Claim? Like a research topic?”

“Exactly.”

Her grin glinted.

I slid the tin into the fire-stone oven.

Blue flames curled around the edges, gentle yet eager.

We waited.

Elizabeth perched on a stool, chin in hand, eyes half-lidded.

“Why do you bake for him?”

I swung my legs.

“He ate my stew. No one else ate my stew.”

“Kindness breeds attachment.”

Her tone remained light.

“Attachment?”

I rolled the word like a marble.

She tapped her chest.

“The heart tugs.”

She tapped my forehead.

“The mind lags behind.”

I touched my chest.

It felt normal—just beats and warmth.

No tugging.

“I like experiments.”

I stated my motive.

“Eksu is an experiment?”

“Maybe a volunteer.”

Elizabeth chuckled.

“Volunteers sometimes marry the researcher.”

I pictured vows spoken over bubbling flasks.

The image fizzed like soda.

“I do not need vows. Only data.”

“Time will test that hypothesis.”

The oven bell rang.

Steam spiraled out.

The cake rose golden, speckled with jeweled sprinkles.

A faint red glow pulsed where the fire essence settled.

Magic dancing under sugar skin.

Perfect.

Elizabeth slid the tin onto a rack.

I whipped cream until it formed proud peaks.

Elizabeth flavored hers with a drop of strong coffee.

We swirled white and mocha together on the top—marble patterns, sweet meeting bitter.

I piped little smiley faces around the edge.

Elizabeth added one sharp fang to each smile.

“Insurance.”

We stepped back and admired our monster-cute masterpiece.

I wrapped the tin in a tea towel.

Elizabeth grabbed plates and forks.

We left the kitchen, balancing the cake like sacred treasure.

Hallways buzzed with students.

I walked carefully, eyes on the frosting.

Elizabeth walked confidently, eyes on potential rivals.

A pair of first-years passed and sniffed the air.

“Smells amazing.”

One whispered.

Elizabeth shot them a look.

They vanished.

Outside, sunlight painted the courtyard.

Rose bushes rustled in the breeze.

The gazebo loomed like a statistical omen.

I spotted Eksu under a maple, flipping pages of a field manual.

He looked serious, maybe hungry.

My heart beat faster—not tugging, just faster.

“Eksu!”

He glanced up.

His dark hair caught a streak of light.

He smiled—kind, tired, grateful.

I almost dropped the cake.

Elizabeth stepped forward, chin high.

“We brought dessert.”

Eksu’s eyes widened.

“For me?”

“Yes.”

I answered brightly.

“Because you’re brave.”

I held out the tin with both hands.

He accepted it gently, like lifting a baby phoenix.

Steam curled from the icing.

Sprinkles glittered.

Chocolate letters gleamed.

He inhaled.

“Smells… safe?”

Elizabeth’s smile twitched.

“Safe enough.”

Eksu cut a slice, cream squishing softly.

He tasted.

His eyes softened.

“Delicious.”

Warm gusts fluttered maple leaves.

I felt something flutter too—maybe data-collection excitement.

Elizabeth’s gaze locked on Eksu’s smile.

Triumph flickered.

I just felt happy.

Cake was science, and science worked.

I clapped my hands.

“Yay!”

Eksu wiped a crumb from his lip.

“Thank you, Lilith.”

My cheeks went warm.

Elizabeth leaned closer to him, voice sweet.

“Eat more.”

She offered an extra forkful, hovering like a bribe.

He laughed, took it, and chewed.

I watched the scene, unsure why Elizabeth’s insistence made my stomach tumble.

Data for later.

The maple cast dappled shadows across the three of us.

Eksu kept eating.

Elizabeth kept smiling.

I kept thinking about flutter feelings.

The cake was almost gone.

Sprinkles littered the grass like confetti.

Eksu sighed contentedly.

“Best thing I’ve tasted today.”

Maybe his Absolute Defense blocked flavor disaster again, but the words still glowed.

Elizabeth shot me a sideways smirk—half challenge, half dare.

I blinked back, confused but curious.

She wrapped the empty tin.

I collected the forks.

Eksu thanked us once more.

I felt a bright spark burst behind my ribs.

Not a tug.

Something softer.

More data needed.

We waved goodbye.

Elizabeth’s step was light, almost humming.

Mine too, though I couldn’t explain why.

We left Eksu under the maple, crumbs on his book, smile on his face.