Abbernathy and Magick's End |Trilogy Now Complete!

(20) - When the Sun Stops By for Sandwiches - NEW

*for readers: Please read this chapter if you haven't already. It's new and, as it introduces a brand new character, is integral to the plot and your overall enjoyment of the story! Thank you!*

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AT THE SPROUTED SEED, one of Triad's thirty bakeries and cafes, Leonora Sneed was busy being bored. Not that she tried to be any other way. Boredom, much like the Seed's affordable pastries and breads made with quality ingredients, was her brand. 

One she'd spent a great deal of effort perfecting. Young at twenty and three, Leonora had sunk hours into studying the art of boredom. Seated in front of her mirror, she had perfected her countenance - one of a placid, indifferent expression and dull, disinterested eyes. Her mouth was forever an undisturbed line carved above the cleft of her chin, her hooded eyelids one blink from collapsing upon each other. Her concentration never wavered, her dedication to her boredom never allowing for another emotion to take its place. 

What remained of her father's clientele were quick to comment on Leonora's lifeless appearance and apathetic attitude, as her gloom stood out amongst the shop's glistening, starchy, cream-filled delicacies. 

She's rather sour, isn't she? And in a shop with such sweet confections. How tragic. 

When Mrs. Bromwell had swanned in that day to pick up her usual order of one dozen spiced syrup rolls, Leonora had found the woman's lacy dress and gemmed stockings rather tragic, not Leonora's face. 

I'm surprised her attitude hasn't curdled the butter.

In truth, so was Leonora. 

Edmune ought to hire someone capable of smiling to work the register. Guaranteed increase in sales. 

Leonora's father had employed someone capable of smiling, so much so, Leonora often imagined the corners of the woman's mouth held up by tiny, invisible chairs, so often had she smiled. 

Back then, smiles were like magick to Leonora, their sheer existence capable of making the world brighter, but then that employee had left, and taken the smiles with her.

They're one day away from financial ruin, The Sprouted Seed's doors closed for good. Can you imagine? Poor man lost his wife, is about to lose his business, and his daughter acts like she can't be bothered to care. Despicable if you asked me. 

No one had asked Mr. Kameron. At eighty-eight, widowed, missing most of his teeth and reeking of clove, no one had ever asked Mr. Kameron anything. But still, he had a point. Maybe Leonora was despicable. 

A better daughter would have smiled more, when such commodities were in short supply. 

Never mind that. Hot gossip, that was all it'd been. Leonora let it wash over her, flowing in one ear and out the other. She never let it linger in the space between her ears, for fear of it infecting her thoughts. 

Triadians spoke simply to enjoy the sound of their own voices, nothing more. 

"--eo!" 

Leonora pressed her lips together, flour-specked fingers roaming across her apron. A lump of dough stared up at her, miserable and oblong. One side squatter than the other, the egg wash hastily applied, and thicker in the middle. The scoring, which was supposed to imitate a blossoming rose, a jagged tangle of no real shape or grand design.

She plopped it into a buttered tin, the dough deflating even more, and shoved it into one of the lower ovens, easily within her reach.

She didn't need to stretch off her chair to reach it, thank gods. Millie wasn't the most cooperative AI, despite that being part of her programming, and she never activated the chair's magickally enhanced lift mechanism when Leonora needed it.