Chapter 5 THE EMPTY RECIPE

Tilly flew closer, gently brushing Nora’s arm with her still-faintly glowing wings, as though trying to offer a little comfort despite being frightened herself.

Nora carried the notebook out of the storage room and hurried toward the main kitchen, where the magical oven stood silent and still. Tilly flew anxiously behind her, glancing over her shoulder every now and then as though afraid someone might be following them.

“Master Crumb,” Nora called firmly as she placed the old book on the wooden table.

The stone oven remained motionless. There was not the slightest sign of life from inside its metal chamber.

Nora sighed in irritation before pounding her fist against the oven’s stone surface.

“Don’t pretend. I know you can hear me.”

Master Crumb trembled faintly.

Thin smoke curled from the gaps around its door, followed by a soft mechanical creaking, as though something inside were slowly awakening from a long sleep.

“Explain my grandmother’s connection to the Fae Kingdom,” Nora demanded without hesitation, her eyes fixed sharply on the oven window as it began to glow red.

The oven released a long sigh, resembling a gust of wind through an empty corridor.

An old, raspy voice echoed directly inside Nora’s mind.

“Martha once lived there,” Master Crumb finally admitted. “She served the high nobles with her skills.”

“And she made Black Velvet there?” Nora pressed quickly.

“Yes,” the oven replied simply.

Tilly let out a horrified hiss, clutching the edge of Nora’s clothes tightly as her tiny body trembled even more at hearing the answer spoken aloud.

Nora gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white, frustration surging through her chest because every answer she received only left her with more questions.

“Why did she erase the recipe? What was she hiding from the outside world?”

Master Crumb remained silent for a long while.

The glow of the fire within its stone body slowly dimmed, leaving behind a piercing chill that prickled Nora’s skin, as though the room itself were holding its breath.

The oven refused to give any explanation about Martha’s past. Curses and oaths of loyalty sealed its metal mouth shut, no matter how hard Nora tried to force it to speak.

Before Nora could ask another question, Master Crumb delivered one final sentence that made her blood run cold.

“Mrs. Finch wished she had never baked that cake.”

Master Crumb’s final words still echoed in Nora’s ears as she left the kitchen with weary steps, Tilly silently flying after her, occasionally glancing back at the oven, which had fallen silent once more.

If even Master Crumb wished the cake had never been baked, Nora knew she would not find her answers through the oven.

She would have to search the book herself.

Nora carried the black leather-bound notebook to the kitchen window, where the afternoon sunlight was still bright enough to read by.

Golden light fell directly across the torn recipe page, highlighting every damaged fiber of paper left behind by knife scratches from years ago.

She lifted the small magnifying crystal that had belonged to Martha Finch, an object that had sat untouched in the cash drawer for years without Nora ever understanding what it was for.

With slightly trembling fingers, she channeled a thin stream of magical energy into the surface of the blank paper beneath the lens.

Tilly floated closer beside her shoulder, watching anxiously with faintly glowing eyes.

“Nora, don’t force your magic onto that paper. There’s still traces of dark magic there.”

Nora merely gave a small nod, too focused to fully heed the warning.

The faded ink lines began reflecting a silvery hue beneath the light, as though the paper were slowly awakening from a long sleep.

Nora held her breath, narrowing her eyes as faint letters gradually emerged from within the paper fibers, one by one, like dew evaporating from glass.

Only a few words were visible amid the knife marks: price and desire, written close together in the lower corner of the page, nearly swallowed by the far greater damage surrounding them.

Nora released the flow of magic from her fingers as her strength began to run out. Her head throbbed slightly from the effort.

The page returned to its original blank appearance, proving that the recipe had indeed been deliberately erased.

It had not disappeared with age or deteriorated over time.

Martha had removed it intentionally, with her own hands, so that no one, including her granddaughter, would ever be able to read its contents.

The thought made Nora’s chest feel strange.

It was not anger, but something closer to the feeling of being betrayed by the person she had trusted most.

Nora turned the page with trembling fingers, hardly daring to hope she would find anything else.

And there it was.

A small piece of paper was tucked between the folds of the thick back cover, nearly invisible had she not searched so carefully.

She slowly pulled it free, afraid of tearing it.

Martha Finch’s neat handwriting covered the surface, each letter instantly familiar from the recipes that had been pinned to the kitchen walls for years.

“Not every desire should be granted.”

That was the brief message her grandmother had left behind.

Nora’s chest tightened.

Her thoughts suddenly became tangled with doubt.

She wondered whether her grandmother had deliberately left her unprepared to face the people from her past, or whether she had intentionally allowed Nora to uncover the truth little by little, as though afraid the shock would be too much if everything were revealed at once.

Tilly gently touched Nora’s cheek with her softly glowing wing, as though trying to comfort her without needing words.