What’s wrong with students? Why are they so dirty? Why can’t they be cleaner? Are they allergic to soap?

Have you ever seen a herd of high-schoolers trudge to a bus stop or invade a diner right after school? Why do they smell like that? And what’s with the loudness? Can’t they have their little hormonal crisis in silence? Not everyone is supposed to be loud when crying, now are they?

I miss stores on Earth where you enter, and a sweet fragrance titillates your nose. You are eyed like a peasant if you don’t dress or talk properly. They barely let you into some places if you don’t look right. That’s living! Going through beautiful store windows with starry eyes and pirouetting while your monthly salary burns in a fortnight!

Elves, instead? You would imagine them being like Orlando Bloom. But no, they are not like that. They are stinky, grumpy, and even a bit racist. Were Elves ever racist in the movies?

No, no, no. I have priorities. There are more important things than stupid Elves that stink like English people that just came out of an oily fish and chips shop.

Bashing their heads in – that would be the thing. I also wouldn’t mind chasing students around with a baseball bat, like in the movies.

But, oh, now there are so many students around. They have just started their little lessons, and they come to bother me all the time. Sure, why not bother the Human with a little bakery! Ah! And sometimes they even complain about what they call the ‘long bread,’ those disrespectful imbeciles. Long bread, tsk. They know nothing about good food! You just have to try it, you idiots; it’s not like you have to drink from the sea!

“Yo! Excuse me!” I suddenly see a hand in front of my face. “Yo!”

I immediately swat away the offending limb, thundering with my eyes at the person disturbing my quiet. Should I signal my [Bodyguard]?

“Excuse me? I have been here for five minutes, and you are just staring into the distance. Can I just order a sandwich?”

I look at the Elf with my nose wrinkled. He doesn’t look bad, but he’s way too loud.

“Sandwiches? We don’t make those. It’s three silvers for a baguette. What do you want?”

He looks at me as if I just said something absurd.

“What? Wasn’t it like five coppers?” he turns to a shorter guy “Yo, Marcellus, what the hell? Wasn’t it supposed to be five coppers? What’s the bread made of, gold?”

The younger Elf is with a taller one. I’ve seen this one loiter in front of my store with saliva coming out of his mouth more than once. He’s clearly starved, but he’s also fighting his own instincts.

“This establishment is fine, Gioeius. I forgot my gold coins in my other bag of holding – what, is your word not worth three silvers?”

The slightly older Elf sighs and looks at him.

“Whatever. Call me, Gioei, by the way. Let’s get the food for the others before I strangle someone,” he says.

“Miss Human, could you please give me a reasonable price? I’m here to pick up nine sandwiches, the big ones. I’m sure I can also come back to this fine establishment in the future. But not if I’m being robbed blind.”

I laugh.

“I don’t need your businéss.”

“My what, sorry?” he raises his eyebrows.

“Your businéss, you imbecile,” I snort. “Even [Archmages] like my sandwiches. I don’t need your money.”

Why do Elves always think they can get away with anything as long as they have money? I should have gone to the Human continent instead of settling here.

“I’m sorry, where did you say you were from?” the Elf named Gioeus asks me.

“What do you care?”

“Your accent is—particular, that’s all,” he says with a big frown.

“Are you going to buy, or do you want to keep wasting my time?”

I really can’t stand the Elves who think they are being magnanimous just for giving you a small amount of face.

“Gioei, please, just pay the lady. She’s always nice to customers. I’m sure that our coinage will assuage her worries for the future and that maybe next time, the prices will go back to normal.”

“Maybe,” I smile at the younger Elf, a kid, really. But I can recognize a person struggling when I see one. Not like the taller guy who just keeps staring at me.

For a second, I get the impression that the Elf is looking at my chest with a frown. Ha! Good luck finding anything there! I’m no cow, Mr. Elf!

“I’m sorry, Miss. I’ll gladly pay,” he says, fishing out five gold coins with extreme nonchalance. “The excess is for disturbing you in a place of work. I’d never want to mess with a beautiful and kind woman like you.”

“Sure,” I laugh in front of the Elf, who’s now shamelessly flirting. This guy is establishing a new standard for idiocy even among Elves. “Did you write down your order?”

The shorter guy steps forward, clutching a piece of paper as if his life depended on it. He hands over the crumpled paper with a bashful look.

“Here you go, Miss,” he smiles with stars in his eyes.

I like the little guy.

“What’s yours?” I ask him while scanning the order.

“The one with lidulae and beef, Miss,” he has dropped the pompous tone and is simply sweating now. He might be thinking that I’m angry at him or something.

“You get the fresher and bigger bread,” I wink at him and click my tongue.

The kid looks like he just got the best news in the world.

“What about me?” the other one says with a toothy smile.

“You get the stale bread. And I’d advise you to avoid complaining if you don’t want to bleed out some more gold.”

“Sure thing,” he raises his hand, defeated.

That’s right. No one messes with me, Elf.

“Come on, Gioe, this is the place. We can’t be banned from here! The others would murder us!” the shorter Elf says.

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t say anything, did I?”

However, the taller Elf keeps staring at me with furrowed brows. Does he have a problem with me?

“Cordius, orders coming up!” I say while passing the piece of paper to one of my helpers. It wasn’t easy establishing a business right at the Nine Towers Academy, but it was worth it.

After years of working for my dad and his little store, I can bake pretty much any specialty of my country. And bake it well.

“This is your number, eighty-six. Keep it. When I call the number, you can come to pick up your stuff. Is that clear? If others come in, you step aside and wait. In silence.”

“I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t think I caught your name,” the troublemaker Elf says, ignoring what I just said and casually picking up the number.

“I didn’t tell you,” I smile.

He smiles and winks.

“I’m sure you have all the reasons in the world. It must be a name as beautiful as you are.”

As soon as his ridiculous statement ends, I almost choke on my own spit. This idiot! What’s wrong with him! Haha! Oh, does this work, usually? What poor woman would fall for this pathetic display?

“Come on, Gioei, stop disturbing her!” the shorter Elf starts tugging at the other’s robe.

The other Elf lifts a hand to his head as if adjusting a huge invisible hat or something. Then, as he catches himself in the movement, he freezes.

“Cassandre,” I say with a continued laugh. “That’s my name.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he smiles, not bothered by my laughter.

I can respect the hustle, I admit. He’s almost as annoying as an Italian tourist. And with the same charm. Now that I look more closely at him, he’s not half-bad. If only he wasn’t a pointy-eared idiot.

“Cassandre, can you explain the name of your bakery to me? I’m not that bright, as you might have understood,” the Elf shrugs away the smaller one and puts on a shining smile. “Breaking Bread?”

“A great show,” I smile while shaking my head. It’s a pity I can’t discuss such things. “It comes from a book I read a while back.”

I can’t explain what a TV show is without telling people I come from a different world and that I suddenly found myself stranded in this fantasy nightmare.

“Great,” he laughs. “Decent, at best.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Oh, I was thinking about something else. I’m sorry!” he keeps up the smile. “I’m sure it’s a beautiful book. And your accent – it’s very elegant.”

“Thank you,” I smile sincerely this time. “But you are still paying the full price.”

“More than happy to,” he winks. “Gotta bleed the bastard Elves dry.”

“We can agree on that, Gioei.”

He clicks his mouth and looks around while Cordius finishes up their order.

“Marcellus, I think we’ll come here more often,” he says to his companion while looking straight at me. It’s clear he’s not talking to the kid.

“Next time, I shall pay for the victuals!”

“Yeah, sure,” the taller Elf seems unconcerned by the insane price I just asked for the sandwiches. I must admit, this guy has some charm. Even his absurd ways are cute.

“Did you get Zahra’s notes, by the way?” suddenly, Gioei turns to Marcellus and asks a question. For the first time, he looks serious.

“She said you should have paid attention and that she’s not giving you anything,” Marcellus snorts.

“What?! I taught her how to—unbelievable! What do you mean ‘pay attention’?! It’s stupid history, goddammit! Why can’t she—AH! Unbelievable! Is this a study group or a loan shark deal? I told her I would keep helping her with Advanced Cantrips I!”

Marcellus raises his chin and nods regally.

“Great minds like hers can’t be bent by simple bribes.”

“Whatever,” he sighs and turns to me again.

I can see Cordius finishing up the order from the corner of my eye. I raise my eyebrows at him in a minute movement. I need a couple more minutes with this guy before letting them go. There’s clearly something in him that might be special. My skills are tingling.

“Do you know the Human who’s caused a whole mess at the academy by any chance?” he asks.

“Because I’m a Human?”

“Yeah. You all look the same, you know. He might be your brother or something. He really kicked ass too. No?”

“I wasn’t here when it happened. I was on vacation.”

Better not to discuss such things, considering all the politics involved. I had to increase the security for fear of repercussions. The anti-Human sentiment is sky-high at the moment. Apparently, that guy was on the verge of marrying the Princess.

“Well, I was watching from the arena. It was nuts. Almost oats, I’d say,” he says and looks back and forth between his friend and me. “No? Not funny? Whatever.”

“Anyway, he was super strong. Also, if you ask me, he looked quite heroic. You’d like him.”

“I don’t meddle with people who commit treason, Elf.”

I raise a hand, and Cordius comes with the order in his hands.

“Eighty-six!” I shout right in his face.

“Woah, yeah. That’s us, I guess,” he takes the big bag and smiles, not moving.

“You know, keep your ears and eyes open. You’ll see more of me, Cassandre. Remember the name, Jo—Gioe,” he winks, “the best [Pyromancer] in town.”

“Man, who would have thought that a ____ would be here,” he says with a lowered voice.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” I tell him.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Let’s go, Marcy,” he slings his arm around his friend's shoulder and heads out.

After they leave, Cordius comes out.

“They really paid five golds?” he asks, incredulous.

“Oui. He must have a lot of money.”

“Traffic is slow today,” Cordius complains.

“People are still figuring out their lecture schedule. You know how it is. It was the same last year and the one before. We’ll pick up more business as the older students tell the new ones about us. Our prices are too good to pass.”

“Cassie, if you have any problems with that Elf, just tell me,” I turn to Cordius, a two-meter and seventy-centimeters tall guy – when hunching. A half-giant, half-Elf, [Cook] with [Enhanced Strength] who can punch a Gold-rank silly.

“Don’t worry, Cordius. I’m sure we will see much more of him. But he looks harmless. The more they talk, the less trouble they are – remember. Also, why did his nickname sound familiar?”