Chapter 297: Two Kinds of Warm
At the corner of 4th and Elm stood a modest brick shop. A wooden sign hung over the door reading 'Stonehelm Bakery'. Inside, the bakery was running at full capacity for the first time since the famine broke.
The kitchen was trapped in a chaotic blizzard of white flour. The air smelled richly of melting butter, toasted sugar, and rising yeast.
Bram stood at the heavy wooden prep station in the back. His massive hands were completely coated in white flour. He pinched and rolled the soft dough into a perfect, intricate braided shape. He worked with a steady, punishing rhythm, completely focused on the physical labor in front of him.
Mr. and Mrs. Stonehelm were frantically running between the prep stations, shouting oven temperatures and pulling fresh trays of sweet-breads from the roaring heat. They looked exhausted, but the fear of starvation was gone from their eyes.
