Chapter 327: Layered Temptations

It was the kind of scent that was probably just his imagination.

After all, in a place as packed as this, even those with colds would be able to smell a wide variety of scents wafting all over the place.

“Sir? Is everything alright?” the secretary asked.

She had been speaking just a moment ago, smoothly delivering a report she had rehearsed twice that morning. She only stopped after realizing that her boss’s head had turned, his attention drifting toward the counter of their coffee shop.

Two children were standing there on their tiptoes, hands gripping the edge of the counter as they peered up at the menu. They were dressed in matching clothes, coordinated enough to look intentional rather than accidental.

If she hadn’t needed to be professional today, she would have kept watching.

In fact, she would have cooed.

The children were too cute for words.

They whispered to each other. Pointed at pictures. One of them gestured enthusiastically, wide-eyed, even seriously inquiring about buying everything on display.

The secretary nearly choked. The child even looked exceptionally serious. But it was hard to take him seriously when he held that tiny duck pouch like a lifeline.

She covered her mouth quickly and turned her head away, clearing her throat under the guise of professionalism. How cute. They must have really liked the treats to even consider asking if they could buy the whole place.

Then again, their boss might be difficult to work with, but he certainly did something right when it came to the products under his company’s name.

She waited for a response.

None came.

She glanced at him again and saw that his gaze was still fixed on the counter. Unmoving. Focused in a way that suggested he was listening, just not to her.

She chose not to interrupt him again.

After all, if there was one thing her boss believed in, it was hearing honest opinions from the most critical customers.

Children.

That was understandable.

What was less understandable was the faint tension in his posture. The way his fingers had gone still. The way he seemed almost compelled to turn fully around, even when he was supposed to be listening to a report that concerned numbers, schedules, and contracts.

He must have been mistaken.

After so many years of attempting to replicate that smell, the one that had drawn him into food in the first place, it wouldn’t be surprising if his mind was playing tricks on him again.

Sometimes he would think he had finally found it.

Only to realize he was wrong.

Then again, he couldn’t even recruit anyone in his endeavor when what it was actually remained a question he still had no answer to. And yet, he liked to believe that someday, somehow, he would figure it out.

Still.

As a decent person, how could his search possibly relate to two children who could barely reach the counter of his store?

__

Huff!

Why was it so high?

Orien stood on his tiptoes, fingers hooked tightly over the edge of the counter as he strained upward with everything he had. His toes trembled. His neck craned at an angle that felt deeply disrespectful. Somewhere in his body, something clicked in protest.

This counter was clearly an enemy.

It was a hard experience to swallow because he was a dragon, for goodness sake! He could have flown or at least floated if he’d been allowed to use magic. But such a thing wasn’t in the cards for today.

Beside him, Liam was doing no better.

The little sprite hovered just enough to see over the edge, hair fluttering as he squinted at the display and then at the person behind the counter. Even with the advantage of familiarity on his side, it was obvious that this demented counter had not been designed with children in mind.

Or dragons.

Orien huffed again.

By now, his toes had qualms. His neck had complaints. But most of all, his small purse had far more than just grievances.

It practically had a grudge.

Still, the young golden dragon endured.

No. He did more than endure.

He insisted on doing this himself. Or, well, at least just with the little sprite beside him.

Because this was important.

See, when it came down to it, Orien had been asked to choose one out of three directions he pointed out with his two hands and mouth.

“!!!”

What?

How could anyone expect him to do such a barbaric thing as choosing?

Choosing was unacceptable. Why should he choose when it was clearly their duty to inspect every nook and cranny? As beings fortunate enough to receive passage into the great temple, they should at least do as much.

Anything less would be disrespectful.

But then his aunt said something terrible.

“I understand you want to visit all the stores,” she said patiently, “but the mall closes in a few hours. If you really wanted to take a look at the shops, there just won’t be enough time.”

Orien froze.

A few hours.

He stared at Riley, who wore his disguise comfortably. He was wearing something that blended in with the other humans, but at that very moment, he seemed like a reaper who was out to cull Orien’s greatest dreams and aspirations.

As expected, golden eyes widened.

Then widened some more.

He was aghast. Mortified beyond belief. His mind refused to process it. How could only a few hours possibly be enough? The great temple was vast. Endless. Divine.

Time was clearly insufficient.

The distress must have shown plainly on his face because people nearby began to glance their way. Some slowed. Some smiled. Some watched openly.

But Orien didn’t care.

He was far too busy coping with this catastrophic revelation.

And then, right as his thoughts spiraled into despair, the little sprite beside him spoke.

“Then if you’re interested,” Liam said thoughtfully, “what about checking one of my favorite places while strategizing? If we have a list like the one Mom usually makes, then we’d be able to visit the most interesting places!”

Oh?

Orien paused mid-crisis.

Favorite place.

He turned slowly, golden eyes locking onto Liam with sudden intensity. A favorite place was not something to be taken lightly. Just what kind of location could earn such a title?

His curiosity flared.

Well.

It turned out that the answer was obvious.

The place had to be the cradle of heaven.

The moment they stepped closer, Orien’s nose twitched.

Then froze.

The air changed.

Warm. Sweet. Rich. There was something buttery layered beneath it, something toasted and soft all at once. Sugar lingered faintly, but not in an overwhelming way. It was gentle. Inviting.

And then he heard it.

A soft crunch.

It was admittedly nothing compared to the sounds of footsteps, chatter, and laughter. But it was so poignant and unmistakable that his ears just locked in on the sound.

The golden dragonling gulped.

His eyes snapped toward the display.

Rows upon rows of golden things sat neatly arranged behind glass. Some were curved. Some were round. Some were layered in spirals that looked impossibly delicate. There were things dusted lightly with sugar, others glazed until they shone.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know what any of them were called. But at this point, he wasn’t sure if even the great him was worthy enough to learn of their names.

Such was his fate. But even when he wasn’t certain about being accepted, he already knew what the goods looked like and had seared everything in his mind.

Warm. Flaky. Golden.

Perfect.

He leaned closer, breath shallow, hands pressed flat against the glass.

Goosebumps rippled down his arms.

And yet the sensation didn’t stop as the young dragon learned about something else.

That there was no need to go through elaborate hunts like in the ancient texts he reviewed to be worthy of a bite.

One simply had to step up to the counter to get one or even two.

“…!!!”

__

However, not long after, the young dragon realized that such honeyed words were a lie.

Because clearly this was a trial.

A well-placed trial to guard such treasures.

It started with a physical test that weeded out the short, weak, and unworthy. They were unfortunately failing the physical portion, but refused to retreat.

And it was such a good call because by overcoming the hurdle and catching the proctor’s attention, they started the second portion of the trial.

“Hello there! Would you two like a free taste?”

The voice came from above, booming like a deity speaking from the clouds. A man in a crisp apron leaned over the edge of the counter, holding a small tray.

Orien froze. This was it. The gatekeeper was offering a boon, but he knew how these things worked in the old stories. One wrong word and the treasure would be snatched away forever.

“We have a special trial today,” the man continued, unaware of the cosmic weight the young dragonling was placing on his words. “Would you like to try a sample? But first, I have to ask: do you have any allergies? This one has nuts in it.”

Allergies.

The word hit Orien like a physical blow. He momentarily panicked, his mind racing through every ancient text and scroll he had ever memorized.

He even tried recalling everything Liam taught him, but to no avail.

What was an allergy? Was it a curse? A specific type of elemental weakness? Was it a trick question?

His breath hitched. He was going to fail right away because he didn’t even have any idea what allergies were supposed to be. His golden eyes darted toward Liam, his heart hammering against his ribs.

But just when he was about to panic about it, the little sprite beside him spoke up with a bright, fearless smile.

“Thank you so much, Mister! We’re not allergic to nuts, dairy, or chocolate!”

Orien stared at Liam in awe. Such a confident answer! The little sprite spoke with the authority of a scholar as if allergies were minor spirits he had already tamed.

The elder administering the trial seemed to have found the answer acceptable. He chuckled, his expression softening as he lowered the tray.

“Is that so? Well, since you’re such smart kids, here you go. But you ought to check with your guardians just to be safe, okay?”

Unbeknownst to the children, the “examiner” had obtained permission from the signaling guardians, who were watching the children like hawks.

They actually received a tiny slice of something that smelled divine. It was a small, square piece of something that was clearly layered. It glistened with something that he knew had to be honey while appearing oh so delicate.

Orien took his portion with trembling fingers. He held it as if it were a holy relic, the sweet scent swirling around his head. He looked at Liam, who had already popped his piece into his mouth with a look of pure bliss.

Taking a deep breath, the young dragon followed suit.

He just didn’t expect the world around him to vanish.

For Orien had a taste and almost blacked out.

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