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After school that day, finishing the cleaning duty, Alfe mentioned she had something she wanted to buy, so we decided to head over to the nobles’ dormitory.

Normally, I only went back and forth between the general dormitory area, the courtyard, and the school building, so this was my first time stepping onto the grounds of the nobles’ dormitory. Alfe, however, seemed familiar with the area, as Farah had guided her before. She confidently walked along the cobblestone path leading to the dormitory.

According to the signposts we passed and Alfe’s explanation, there was a small cluster of shops situated in a section directly opposite the general dormitories. While the area was technically part of the academy’s dormitory grounds, and thus not off-limits to students from the general dormitories, it seemed rare to find anyone from our side wandering into the district referred to as the “shopping street.”

Lining the wide cobblestone street were numerous shops. The street, about a hundred meters long, housed roughly twenty stores, a few of which appeared to offer light meals and sweets.

Beneath the softly adjusted glow of magic stone lamps attuned to the evening’s gentle light, deep green tables and chairs were arranged in neat rows. Students could be seen enjoying a leisurely tea time on the terrace with an air of elegance.

Chiffon cake, a specialty of one of the shops specialized in sweets, generously topped with fresh cream and fruit sauce, along with a cup of tea, seemed particularly popular. Every table bore at least one set, which was amusing to observe.

As noble dormitory students strolled along the street, chatting amiably, I suddenly realized that their gazes kept drifting toward two female students for some time.

Even as someone seeing them for the first time, I could tell their demeanor and aura were distinctly different from that of ordinary nobles. It was unlikely my perception was wrong. Not only were they being admired by both male and female onlookers, but the presence of other female students lingering at a distance, seemingly their entourage, suggested they were quite famous.

“That’s Estea Sidra, the student council president, and her roommate, Melua Garnel,” Alfe whispered, noticing my gaze. Estea was the one with long golden hair tied high on her head with a black ribbon, while Melua, the girl with short, wavy brown hair and a striking pair of Pure Eyes, stood out next to her.

“Melua is in the Magic Department, but she also holds a Special-Class Alchemist certification,” Alfe added.
“That’s impressive.”

Did this mean that I might be able to obtain the same certification if I took the exam now? Once our elective classes begin, I’ll observe the situation and consult with a teacher about it.

“By the way, Alfe, what is it that you want to buy?” I asked as we maneuvered around Estea and Melua’s entourage to continue through the shopping street. Alfe’s eyes sparkled as she smiled brightly.

“You see, I want to make sweets with you, Leafa. Farah told me there’s a cooking room for dorm students.”
“Sweets, huh?”

Thinking about it, I hadn’t cooked anything remotely resembling a proper dish since moving into the dorm.

“Leafa, you like cooking too, right? I thought it might be a nice way to relax. What do you think?” she asked.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea. Why don’t we bake some cookies?” I suggested.
“Yeah!”

Cookies were practical since they were long-lasting and could be made in large batches. It might be nice to share some with Aunt Ur, Farah, and Hom as a thank-you.

Alfe nodded emphatically and took my hand, leading me toward a store that sold daily necessities and ingredients. The shop looked modest from the outside, but inside it was packed to the brim with products.

“What an incredible selection,” I remarked.
“The nobles here place a lot of orders. There’s even more stock that doesn’t fit on the shelves,” Alfe explained.

I was surprised to see such a variety of cookie cutters, with multiple designs available. The adorable heart- and flower-shaped cutters seemed perfect for Alfe.

“These are especially popular around Valentine’s. We kept adding more to meet requests, and now look at this!” the shopkeeper, a slender elderly woman, said as she struck up a conversation with us, noticing our amazement at the store’s selection.

“Are you two planning to bake cookies?”
“Yes, we are.”

It was probably obvious from our appearance that we weren’t students from the nobles’ dormitory. The shopkeeper’s casual and familiar way of speaking was quite comforting.

“In that case, you’ll need flour, butter, sugar, and eggs,” she said, gathering the essentials into a shopping basket for us.

I was surprised to find out that even something as simple as flour came in numerous options. It made me want to go beyond ordinary cookies and try something a bit more creative.

As I pondered, my eyes fell on an unfamiliar powder displayed on one of the shelves. It was sold in small quantities and was priced about the same as flour.

“Creeper powder…?” I muttered.

The Creeper was a plant-like magic beast that inhabited caves, resembling a semi-transparent sheet of thin fabric hanging from ceilings. Its veil-like parts were edible, though highly flammable. Once ignited, they had a trait of expanding rapidly before bursting.

This powder, made from dried and finely ground Creeper material, likely acted as a leavening agent.

“Ah, that one?” the shopkeeper chimed in. “We just got it in. They say it improves the texture of chiffon cakes.”

Chiffon cake—like the one from the sweets shop earlier. It was probably used to enhance the airy texture of cakes made with whipped egg whites. Thinking back to the cake we saw, it looked incredibly fluffy yet held its shape well under the weight of fresh cream. It seemed quite promising as a leavening agent.

Though I’d never used it in cookies, adding just a small amount might introduce airiness and create a lighter texture.

“Can I get this too?” I asked.
“Of course but… for cookies…?”

Despite her puzzlement, she processed the sale without issue. Given the shop’s primary clientele from the nobles’ dormitory, I expected steep prices, but aside from the Creeper powder, the other items were reasonably priced.

I had planned to pay for everything myself, but Alfe insisted we split the cost. Relenting, I paid half, while Alfe took the shopping bags with a determined smile.

“Shopping was so much fun! At this rate, I might get to eat your homemade cooking too,” Alfe said happily, clutching a paper bag while extending her free hand toward me.
“Yeah, I’ve been inspired by how good the cafeteria food is. I want to try making something myself,” I replied.

When I took her hand, Alfe intertwined her fingers with mine, holding on tightly.

“Once elective classes really kick off, we’ll probably get hungry more often, so having snacks or something for late nights would be perfect.”

The setting sun cast its warm light, stretching our shadows across the cobblestone path. The long shadows reminded me how rare it had been lately to walk side by side like this, just the two of us.

“You’re right. Everyone’s still growing, so it’ll be rewarding to cook for them,” I said.

I made a mental note to confirm with Aunt Ur about using the dorm’s cooking room. Generally, dorm facilities were available until midnight, so it shouldn’t be an issue.

Back at the dorm, I stored our bag of ingredients in the refrigerator within the kitchen’s magic fridge, carefully labeling it with our names. The fridge was surprisingly empty, suggesting it wasn’t used much.

According to Aunt Ur, the cooking room could be freely used until 10 p.m., partly due to security considerations. Given the potential fire hazards, it made sense that the hours were stricter compared to other facilities.

“This place really is a hidden gem,” I remarked.

The dorm kitchen was spotless, showing clear signs of regular cleaning, yet it didn’t look like it saw much use.

“With the cafeteria serving such amazing meals, it’s no wonder most students don’t bother cooking for themselves,” Alfe said.

She had a point. Even I hadn’t thought about cooking anything until she suggested it today—likely because I’d been too busy to consider it.

The magical oven looked practically brand new, as if it had never been used. The thought of having free rein to use this space made me unexpectedly excited.

At home, I had always cherished family time by cooking for my father, mother, and Hom. If I thought of the dorm as my second home, perhaps I could contribute here in a similar way—through my cooking.

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