Her fae & His fairy

Chapter 29

Elain:

Surveying the warm and bustling bakery, I'm greeted by the telltale signs of a busy day. The display case, which earlier housed an array of tempting desserts and freshly baked bread, now stands nearly empty, a testament to the day's success. The cafe stools lining the windows, once occupied by morning patrons, have been vacated in haste, leaving a disarray that adds a touch of charm to the atmosphere.

The bakery, predominantly adorned in soothing beige and brown tones, takes on a cosy ambience. However, a captivating contrast awaits on the wall opposite me—a mural brought to life by Azala's thoughtful choice. The mural, painted by a spring fae commissioned by the bakery's owner, depicts vibrant spring flowers in full bloom, with a golden sun radiating from the centre. Azala, known for her graceful kindness, believed that the Night Court could benefit from a bit more sunlight. While I keep this sentiment to myself, secretly cherishing the beauty of the artwork, I find it to be the loveliest mural I've ever encountered.

The image of the sun, strategically positioned directly in front of me, creates an illusion that makes me feel as if its warm rays are gently caressing my skin. It invokes a sense of home, a comforting contrast to the coldness of the moonlit nights.

As I bend down to collect the dust and crumbs in a dustpan, the entrance of a visitor goes unnoticed. The sound of the door opening and the accompanying bell chime are the only audible signals of their arrival. Engrossed in my task, I offer a casual response without looking up, "Just a moment." The person's footsteps, initially advancing, come to an abrupt halt near the entrance.

Straightening my back, I prepare to greet the visitor, and that's when I freeze. There he stands, Lucien, clad in whites and orange, a profound shock registering on his face. It's evident that my unexpected presence has taken him by surprise. As I scan him, a hesitant acknowledgement flits through my mind—he looks good. His skin boasts a darker hue, the light in his eyes gleaming, and his hair is intricately braided down his back, adorned with jewellery. In this moment, he resembles a deer caught in the gaze of a hunter, unmoving as if afraid to startle me away.

Contrary to the rapid beat of his heart, mine remains steady, an odd calmness settling within me. The air hums with unspoken tension as we lock eyes, each of us seemingly held captive by the unexpected reunion.

"Hello," I say, the words hanging in the air as I put the dustpan away, my gaze unwavering on Lucien.

He blinks, seemingly disbelieving that I stand before him before shaking his head. "Sorry, I didn't know - I was not aware - I will leave." The words tumble out of him, a rushed and stumbling admission, as he turns to make a hasty exit.

"Lucien," I call, surprising both him and myself. He tenses, hands on the door, and turns back hesitantly.

"What did you come after?" I ask, adopting a professional tone. I convince myself that I can engage in conversation with him. After all, he is my mate, and the Mother herself has woven a bond between us for a reason.

Stepping further into the bakery, Lucien maintains a cautious distance, stopping a little further from the display than most customers would. It's a subtle acknowledgement of my past avoidance, a silent respect for boundaries.

"The lily-path cakes," Lucien says, his gaze unwavering as he never takes his eyes off me. In the centre of the mural, he stands framed by the sun and surrounded by flowers. It's a striking image, an omen that's hard to ignore. There he is, looking as if he's been painted into the mural itself—the one I've looked at every day, evoking a sense of home. Lucien occupies the sunlit centre, shining even against the backdrop of the grey winter sky outside.

"How many?" I ask, turning my attention to the display. In the corner to my right, I notice about three of the lily-path cakes left—smaller, rounder cakes adorned with decorative flowers on top, resembling lilies.