Chapter 702: The Little Things Worth Waiting For

The following morning, Seraphine left Vespera knowing that she wanted to explore other places, and the journey home began at a leisurely pace, after two days in which nobody had needed to worry about anything beyond choosing where to eat, climbing a lighthouse, and discovering which members of the group got seasick on boats.

The carriage left the coast shortly after breakfast. Seraphine stayed by the window for the first hour, watching the sea gradually disappear behind the hills until the last strip of blue vanished completely. She showed no sadness when that happened. She simply opened one of the books she had brought and placed the small seashell she had purchased at the market on her lap, checking twice to make sure she hadn’t packed it alongside anything that might break it.

The former Reference also watched until the sea disappeared. Afterward, she approached Elion and stared at the rigid case attached to his belt.

“Are you going to make it waterproof?” she asked, pointing directly at the matrix.

It took Elion a few seconds to realize that their conversation at the lighthouse hadn’t been forgotten.

“I can build better protection for it,” he replied, adjusting the case. “But I’m not going to simply submerge the matrix in water to find out whether it works.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” the little creature replied, remaining close to his shoulder. “I want to go into the water after you know it works.”

“That’s a better order.”

“When?”

“When we get back, I’ll start looking into it.”

She seemed satisfied and moved away to look out the window.

Kael, sitting on the other side with his recipe book open, looked up.

“Congratulations. You’ve earned yourself a project.”

Elion looked at him.

“You’re carrying an entire book because you decided to make honey cake.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“There’ll be honey cake at the end.”

Umbra appeared between the two benches.

“Strong argument.”

Sylphie, sitting beside Kael, took the book from his hand and flipped through a few pages.

“Are you still planning to make this today?”

“If we arrive early.”

“You’re going to reduce the cloves.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t reduce them too much.”

“You’re criticizing me before I’ve even started.”

“I’m saving time.”

Seraphine looked up from her own book.

“I’d like to try some.”

“Then we’ll have a neutral witness,” Kael replied.

Umbra rested her arms on the backrest.

“I’m going to taste it too.”

“You’re not neutral.”

“I don’t need to be.”

They arrived at the mansion in the early afternoon. The first thing Seraphine did after leaving her suitcase in her room was head toward the garden, the seashell safely held in her hand. Kael and Sylphie followed at a more relaxed pace, while Elion disappeared in the direction of his workshop, already thinking about how to protect the matrix.

The nameless man was exactly where they expected to find him. Sitting on the ground in front of the flower bed, he held his notebook open and compared two leaves that had grown in different directions. When he heard footsteps, he closed the notebook and stood up.

“You’re back,” he said, looking first at Seraphine and then at Kael. “It’s been three days.”

“You counted?” Kael asked.

“Yes.”

Seraphine approached.

“I have something for you.”

The man looked at her closed hand.

“From the sea?”

“Yes.”

She opened her fingers.

The white-and-pink seashell rested in the center of her palm.

He didn’t take it immediately. He leaned closer, examined its surface, and then extended his hand.

“Was this on the beach?”

“At the market near the beach,” Seraphine corrected. “It probably came from the sea before that.”

The man carefully accepted the seashell and turned it between his fingers.

“It’s light.”

“Hold it near your ear,” Seraphine said.

He looked at her suspiciously.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

The man obeyed. He placed the opening of the shell against his ear and went still.

Kael waited.

“There’s a sound,” the man said.

Seraphine smiled.

“It sounds like the sea.”

He lowered the seashell and looked at her again.

“Is it the sea?”

“Not exactly,” Kael replied before anyone could come up with a worse explanation. “But it sounds like it.”

The man placed it against his ear again.

“Then when I see the sea, I can compare them.”

“That’s why I chose this one,” Seraphine replied.

He lowered the seashell and continued examining it for a few more seconds before simply asking:

“Is it mine?”

“Yes.”

The answer produced a small but noticeable change. He held the seashell with both hands and looked around, as though deciding where to put it.

“I’ll keep it in my room,” he finally said. “I don’t want to leave it here and get it wet.”

Kael nodded.

“Good decision.”

The man took two steps, then stopped and turned back.

“The seventh one appeared.”

Kael immediately turned toward the flower bed.

Sylphie closed her eyes.

“You could’ve started with that,” Kael said, approaching.

“Seraphine was talking about the seashell.”

“Terrible priorities.”

The seventh sprout had emerged near the edge of the flower bed, small enough to almost disappear among the grains of soil. The man knelt and opened his notebook to that morning’s page. There was an entry recording the approximate time, the condition of the soil, and two lines about its coloration.

“You even wrote down the time,” Kael said.

“You told me to.”

“I suggested it.”

“You said to write it down.”

Sylphie crouched on the opposite side.

“He’s learning far too quickly from you.”

“I disagree. He’s more precise.”

“That’s not a defense.”

The former Reference appeared shortly afterward, accompanied by Elion, who apparently hadn’t managed to reach his workshop before she decided to visit the garden first. Upon discovering the seventh sprout, she remained floating above it for nearly a minute.

“I missed it when it appeared,” she said.

“Me too,” the man replied. “It was already here when I arrived.”

“So nobody saw it.”

“No.”

She thought about that.

“I want to try tomorrow.”

The man nodded.

“You can come early.”

“I’ll choose the time.”

“Yes.”

Elion exhaled through his nose.

“This is going to end with both of you sitting here before sunrise.”

“We can do that,” the little creature replied.

The man considered it.

“We can.”

Kael decided not to get involved.

The honey cake preparation began in the late afternoon.

Kael found Marta in the kitchen, explained what he wanted to make, and was given a countertop, utensils, and a short response from someone who had already accepted that he would periodically appear there with new recipes. Sylphie arrived shortly afterward, followed by Seraphine. Umbra was already there, although nobody had seen her enter.

“First problem,” Marta said, reading the recipe. “This calls for molasses. We have dark honey, but no molasses.”

Kael opened his own recipe notebook, where he had copied the version he intended to test.

“Can we substitute it?”

“We can. It’ll change the texture and flavor.”

“First attempt.”

“Then it’ll do.”

Sylphie placed the dry ingredients on the counter.

“Cinnamon, cloves, ginger.”

Kael looked at the amount of cloves.

She noticed.

“No.”

“That’s too much.”

“It’s a small spoonful.”

“Still too much.”

Seraphine approached the jar, sniffed it, and pulled her face away.

“It’s strong.”

Kael pointed at her.

“Neutral witness.”

“She smelled it on its own,” Sylphie replied. “That doesn’t count.”

Umbra opened the jar.

“You too,” Kael and Sylphie said simultaneously.

Umbra closed it.

Marta watched the discussion without interfering as she greased the baking pan.

In the end, Kael reduced the cloves only slightly, kept the cinnamon, and added the indicated amount of ginger. The dark honey went in warmed, followed by the eggs and butter. The batter turned out thicker than he had expected.

“Is something wrong with it?” Seraphine asked, watching Kael mix.

“No,” Marta replied. “This kind of batter is supposed to be like that.”

“I was going to say that,” Kael commented.

Sylphie looked at him.

“You just asked with your eyes.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is.”

Once the pan went into the oven, there was nothing left to do for almost half an hour. Seraphine stayed in the kitchen because she wanted to see the result, Umbra remained because she wanted to eat the result, and Sylphie sat on a countertop, chatting with Marta about the coastal seeds she had brought back.

Kael opened his notebook.

HONEY CAKE — FIRST ATTEMPT. DARK HONEY IN PLACE OF MOLASSES. CLOVES SLIGHTLY REDUCED.

“You’re taking notes before even tasting it?” Seraphine asked.

“I’m recording what I did.”

“And if it turns out bad?”

“I’ll write that it turned out bad.”

She nodded.

“That makes sense.”

The aroma began filling the kitchen after twenty minutes. Cinnamon, honey, and ginger dominated at first; the cloves came through afterward, much less overpowering than Seraphine had expected.

Umbra was already standing beside the oven.

“Move away,” Kael said.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Exactly. Do that farther away.”

When Marta finally removed the pan, nobody was allowed to cut into it immediately. Kael tried arguing that the whole point was to test it, but she completely ignored him.

“Ten minutes.”

“Five.”

“Ten.”

Kael looked at Sylphie.

“Don’t involve me.”

It was ten.

The first piece was divided among the four who intended to taste it, although Umbra somehow managed to obtain a larger portion without anyone noticing how. Kael chewed thoughtfully, waiting for the spices to spread across his palate before making a decision.

Seraphine finished first.

“I liked it.”

Sylphie tasted hers as well.

“You could’ve kept the full amount of cloves.”

“Disagree.”

“Of course.”

Umbra was already on her second piece.

“Good.”

Kael wrote in his notebook.

RESULT: GOOD. KEEP CLOVES REDUCED. MAYBE MORE GINGER.

Sylphie read over his shoulder.

“You wrote that just to annoy me.”

“I’m recording the result.”

“Your result.”

“My notebook.”

She smiled.

“Fair enough.”

The nameless man appeared in the doorway shortly afterward, still holding the seashell. Nobody had called him, but the smell had reached the corridor.

“Is this what you were making?” he asked.

Kael cut another piece.

“Honey cake.”

The man accepted the plate, tasted it in silence, and chewed slowly.

“It has a strong flavor.”

“Bad?” Seraphine asked.

“No.” He took another bite. “Just strong.”

Kael pointed at Sylphie.

“Another witness.”

“He said he liked it.”

“He didn’t say that.”

The man looked between them.

“I liked it.”

Sylphie crossed her arms.

Kael wrote another line.

APPROVED BY TWO.

“I approved it too,” Umbra said.

“You approve of sugar.”

“Still counts as approval.”

Kael added a small three beside the sentence.

The former Reference appeared in the doorway alongside Elion and stopped upon noticing the smell, even though she didn’t need to breathe.

“Is that honey cake?” she asked.

“Yes,” Seraphine replied.

“I can’t taste it.”

Elion looked at her.

“Not yet.”

The little creature slowly turned toward him.

“Yet?”

He immediately realized his mistake.

Kael lowered his gaze to his notebook to hide his smile.

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to build you a mouth,” Elion said.

“You said yet.”

“I know what I said.”

“Then there’s a possibility.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Umbra began laughing before the discussion could continue.

By the end of the night, half the honey cake had already disappeared. Kael closed his notebook, put away the recipe, and left the rest for breakfast. Seraphine returned to her room with her books, the nameless man went back to the garden just to check the seventh sprout one last time, and Elion was finally dragged to his workshop by his own promise to study a waterproof casing for the matrix.

Kael stepped into the corridor beside Sylphie.

“Training tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“No counting.”

“No counting.”

“And no eight hours.”

“I never agreed to a number.”

Sylphie took his hand as they walked.

“Then I’ll show up after two.”

Kael looked at her.

“Three.”

“Two and a half.”

“You’re negotiating with yourself.”

“I’m making sure I get results.”

Kael intertwined his fingers with hers.

“Two and a half.”

“Great.”

In the morning, there would be training, enough work to occupy a few hours, and probably another visit to the garden to discover whether the eighth sprout had appeared. Seraphine already had another map set aside in the library, but she had no intention of leaving immediately. The nameless man now possessed a seashell he wanted to compare with the sea someday, and the former Reference had given Elion a technical problem to solve simply because she had decided she wanted to enter the water.

None of those things needed to be rushed.

And this time, nobody seemed to think otherwise.