The greeted me like it did every day. Sunlight poured through the clear windows and lit up the whole room. Dust particles fluttered as I squeezed my pillow. I stretched, the silk sheets hugging my body as I awoke.
"Fitz! It's eleven in the morning! Up!" An annoying, high-pitched voice called from me, holding a teacup. The scent of slumberberry tea wafted through my room.
"Coming Biana!" I groaned. I sat up in my bed, vision adjusting to the light, before decidedly flopping back on the mattress.
"My friends are coming and so is Keefe!" Biana ran into my room and pulled the covers off my frame. I groaned in protest, but stumbled out of bed, brooding.
I stood in front of the mirror and took a blue-black elixir that reminded me of the night skies in the forbidden cities, so bereft of stars. I took another one, this one a Barbie sort of pink, feigning perfection effortlessly. The colour of my teal eyes brightened after I gulped it down.
I picked out a simple white shirt, which I wore under a muted green tunic. I opened my jewellery drawer and grabbed a gold necklace with a simple sapphire pendant. I clasped it and began walking out, but I stopped when I almost crossed the mirror. I turned my head to it and winked at it, perhaps the most Keefe-like thing I've done in a while/
I walked into the dining room. Biana sat there in a summer dress that hugged her body. The sun spilled through the window and lit up her skin, which was a few shades darker now that it was summer. She turned to me with and looked me up and down, before pouring herself another cup of tea.
"Where are they?" I looked around the room. The only sign of life was the two of us and our shadows.
"Here in three hours," her voice whispered through the echo of my booming one.
"Seriously?" I rolled my eyes, grabbing a chair and crashing down on it. "Three hours? That's two hours and forty-five minutes of extra sleep I could've enjoyed."
"Or it's two hours forty-five minutes of helping me bake," she looked at me with thoughtful eyes. I sighed.
"Fine. I'll help." I said leaning back on the Grenadil wood chair, the sunlight lightening up the right side of my face. "What were you thinking of?"
"Sweetberry Swirls were my first thought." Biana said, twisting a strand of her sunsilk hair around her finger. I bit my lip and allowed a silence to stretch over us for a minute.
"Let's give it a shot," I stood up and pushed the chair in the table. "Not sure if we'll finish in time though."
"That's fine," she rolled her eyes. "As long as we have the pastries."
I had to guide Biana to the kitchen. She hadn't seen it for a few years. The label of 'Baker' belonged to me. I often surprised my family with baked treats when hunger or boredom hit.
The room sparkled from the crystal and clean surfaces. A strange sight for somewhere cooking took place – I thought to myself but paid no attention as I began the recipe. Biana almost jumped in on making the dough, but I stopped her and shook my head.
"Wash your hands first," I told her, which earned me a glare, but she obeyed.
***
Two hours and forty-five minutes later, I was not done with the pastries. I worked with haste and flour on my fingers, rushing the drizzle that was supposed to be done fifteen minutes ago. Thankfully, that wasn't the only thing that feel behind in time. I put the rolls in the oven later than I should have, the time slipping away from my reach.
I had tackled this with the assumption that Biana would help me, but dear reader, that was the first mistake I made. I sent her to fetch the berries necessary for the recipe. Biana, ever the opportunist, took this as a chance to call her friend Nalini, and converse for ten minutes.
So, when the bell rang through the hallways, and the pastries weren't finished baking, I could only respond to her panic-stricken expression with a knowing one.
She ran through Everglen to greet them. I couldn't hear them at all, being on the opposite side of the estate.
I heard footsteps on carpet, a soft sound, but I could pick it up anytime thanks to Biana sneaking up on me in my room for the last ten years she could walk.
"Fitz!" Two voices called out for me, strolling into the kitchen. I turned, the oven now dinging and the five people staring at me.
I recognised one: Keefe, who was standing with his hands in his pant pockets, turning up the flap of his maroon jerkin.
"Hello," I said, pulling out a tray of Sweetberry Swirls out of the oven, the scent of the sugary scroll wafting through the air. A chorus of "Oohs" echoed each other. "These are nearly done. Biana, why don't you take everyone to the dining room."
She clicked her tongue. "Oh Fitz, so clueless. You can keep the sweets from the girl, but you can't keep the girl from the sweets."
"I second that," Keefe said, staring at the scrolls as if he'd found his Juliet.
I snorted and placed the tray on the kitchen counter. It clattered on the tile. "They'll be done in a second."
Biana led her friends to the dining room, but she couldn't peel Keefe away from the sweets. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and stared lovingly at the sweets from over my shoulder.
"I would kill to see you in an apron now." He smirked.
"I almost wished I'd worn one." I groaned, flour now on my good clothes. I shook my head. I could wash it off later. "Come to help your best friend in the kitchen."
"Yeah, I can eat them, if you need that job done."
"Not what I had in mind."
He grabbed a bottle filled with the glaze, a soft pink colour, a few shades darker than the berries themselves. Keefe kept glancing at my work, trying to emulate the neat zigzags I made with my drizzle. It was a poor attempt, we both agreed later.
I grabbed the tray and brought them to the dining room, Keefe following me. He had his hands behind him back and his chin upward. I was the opposite, cautiously carrying the tray with my eyes on the sweets. Clapping and grunts of approval I heard as I walked into the dining room. I set the tray on the table and heaved a sigh.
Keefe grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him. He ran his thumb across my nose and cheek. I noticed a white dust on his thumb and his face inches from mine.
The girls gasped and stared at Biana, who was now blushing. A fiery shade of red took over her body.
"You had flour on you." Keefe said and sat down. I sat down next to him and helped myself to a scroll. They tasted just like they were supposed to, but I felt better than if I ate a storebought scroll.
"Keefe," Biana broke the silence. "Are you dating anyone?"
YOU ARE READING
Keeper of the Lost Secrets
Fanfiction𝘚𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. Fitz Vacker spent his early years looking for her, away from his home in the Lost Cities, to a wider, more daunting world - his only motivation being fake smiles and his father's determination. But his life changes the moment he...
