The Fairy Who Gave a Spring of Good Fortune the Hiccups

The bakery bell over Pehlendorf Kleeblattwinkel rang like it was proud of itself. I was wiping flour off my hands when the wind brought a letter to my doorstep, sliding under the latch like it had manners and a destination.

The wax seal was the royal crest. Gold. Clean. Too perfect for a village morning. My teal cloak tugged at my shoulders as if it wanted to hide me, but I stood up straight anyway. I had been “done” with chaos for long enough to believe it.

Benno stepped in from the side path with a basket of bread rolls. His hands were steady. His face was less steady when he saw the seal. “You look like you are about to argue with a cloud,” he said.