Sift

Love Runs Out //OneRepublic

Chapter 3

Before I pick my jaw up off of the floor and my heart rate returns to normal, I hear my sister's return, bounding through the back door. Ellete requires a dramatic entrance at all times.

"You'll never guess the news!" I hear her squeal in excitement. Still in somewhat of a daze from the newest patron of our baked goods, the unimpressive Lord Nicandros, I blindly turn and head back to the kitchen. As I enter, Ellete is visibly shaking with her bottled up information.

"There's a new gentleman in town!" The look on Ellete's face is pure joy. Or mild hysterics. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference with her.

"What do you know of him?" Father asks, somewhat halfheartedly. We are both highly aware of Ellete's preoccupation with romance. What is sure to follow will be an endless string of wistful, somewhat dreamy ramblings flowing from Ellete's mouth. There are times when I can practically see the little hearts and flowers she mentally doodles in the margin of her thoughts.

"He is devilishly handsome, well mannered and tall. He sounds so intriguing I can hardly wait to make his acquaintance." Her hands clasp together under her chin while a faraway look crosses her face. She's imagining it right now. Ellete may be excited beyond belief, however I now have a nauseous pit in my stomach.

The face of the man I had the misfortune of meeting flashes across my mind. Devilishly handsome is too weak a descriptor. His looks could be considered hypnotic. Still I am recovering from my encounter, and I will admit to myself it is only partially due to his arrogance. Much of it is caused by his deep voice. The shine on his black hair. The shifting of his jaw. The pointed gaze set to undue my very countenance and break my resolve.

Thinking of it now I marvel at the fact I was able to remain upright.

Ellete leans closer to Father and me, both of us standing in the center of the kitchen next to the long slab of stone used to knead the dough. "He's quite wealthy and..." Ellete pauses for her trademark dramatic effect, "he's unattached." She whispers as an added bonus.

"Does this gentleman have a name? An occupation?" Father asks with slightly more interest, to my dismay. I know what is coming next, whose name Ellete will say. My experience with the strange man still in my mind causes me to involuntarily clench my fists. I won't be running the front of the store anytime soon.

"He's a Lord." She leans closer. "Lord Nicandros."

I want to wretch at the sound of his name on Ellete's lips. In a split second my mind buries the interaction I had with the man only moments ago. For some reason, I do not wish to share with Ellete that I have already had the horrible misfortune of meeting the Lord first. His disposition was so unpleasant I wonder at her praise of his 'good manners.' No doubt, Mrs. Naimer has already plied her with all kinds of accolades completely undeserved by the offending man. Is no one in this town a good judge of character?

"I'm sure he will visit us soon. Ours is the best bakery for miles and no one can resist fresh baked bread." Ellete floats through the kitchen and into the storefront section as light and happy as I've seen her in a while. If nothing else, our verbal squabbles may lessen with this man in her daydreams. "Oh! You've cleaned out here. Thank you, dear sister."

Dear sister? I'm suddenly rethinking my hopes about her level of sanity regarding Lord Nicandros. She's too happy if she's calling me dear sister. This will not end well.

"My pleasure," I reply as I gather the few loaves of day old bread I had saved by the back door. "I'm taking my mid-day break. See you for the evening rush." I call to my father as I exit the shop. Being the first one on duty in the morning means that I have several hours off in the afternoon while Father takes over the baking duties. Our evening rush for dinner breads is almost as busy as the morning. I always return to begin the nightly cleaning of the pans and kitchen while Father and Ellete assist customers in the front. I don't mind the work. Brushes and brooms make no demands, unlike the people of this town.

"Have a good rest, my dear," Father says as I leave. Resting would be the best choice for now, but I have a task to complete. Today being Wednesday, as our surly customer reminded me this morning when I fumbled her usual order of rye, I have a schedule to keep. Day old baguettes on Wednesdays, wheat rolls on Fridays and sweet butter croissants on Sundays, the pattern is always the same. Ellete may question my excessive dayolds but little does she know that I calculate my baking precisely, I do not ever over bake. There is always a plan for the unsold loaves.

Daralis certainly doesn't think much of Lord Nicandros. And she knows right off the bat that he'll be trouble...but just what kind of trouble is the question.

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️❤️

Has her love run out? Daralis is missing so much, and becoming angry about it...

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