NYX: TOO SEVERED

I'm at the Jolly Baker, my hands covered in flour as I rhythmically knead the dough on the well-worn wooden board atop the counter. A soft hum escapes my lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic thump of dough against wood.

beads of sweat cling to my temples and forehead as the hot afternoon sun shines in the sky its rays casting a warm glow through the window of the quaint bakery. I pause using the sleeve of my dress to wipe the perspiration, my movements practiced and swift.

I'm in a much lighter mood after my little confession to the Harrisons, and I'm in an even better mood since I heard the soldiers from Rimvard had returned back home. A bright smile spreads across my face at the thought, my eyes crinkling with delight.

The bell above the door jingles as a customer enters, and I turn to greet them, my smile still etched on my lips. "Good afternoon, welcome to Jolly Bakers. What would you like to get, Mrs. Eileen?" I ask, a hint of excitement colouring my tone.