The next morning came too fast.
Marron woke to sunlight the color of ripe peaches streaming through the enchanted windows. Her hands were stiff from sketching half the night, and her notebook lay open on the floor, pages covered in bowl shapes and plating ideas.
She'd dreamed about soup. Not the anxious kind of dream where everything went wrong—but the kind where she was making it for someone who mattered. Her mother, maybe. Or herself.
Mokko was already awake, doing stretches by the window. "Big day," he said. "You ready?"
Was she? Marron wasn't sure. But she was more ready than yesterday, and that felt like progress.
"Ready enough," she said.
By the time she arrived at the Culinary Guild, the whole building buzzed like a hive about to swarm.
Banners unfurled over the marble entrance in shimmering script: "Guild Exhibition: Pair Challenge – A Fusion of Heart and Presentation."
