Guinevere hummed as she reorganized her cakes on the shelf. Market Day promised to be busy, and she yawned as the morning birds began to sing. It's good to get ready before the crowds begin to arrive.
Sure enough, hours later, the baker was kept busy by the steady pouring of customers to her shop. She was selling her pastries, bargaining good-naturedly, and was so occupied by her work that at first she didn't notice the dark-haired man standing by her counter.
When business slowed down, and the last customer left the shop, Guinevere stretched. "Time for a little treat."
When she went behind the said counter to retrieve her snack she gasped in surprise as she bumped into the man. "Oh my word! I am so sorry!"
"It's fine. I should be saying sorry for intruding on your shop counter." The man answered, but he was preoccupied with looking out the window at a café across the street. Guinevere squinted as she tried to make out what exactly was he looking at. "Sir?"
"It's nothing." He answered hastily. "It's just…" He trailed off as at that moment a dark-haired girl walked out of the café, smiling brightly, hand-in-hand with a boy with dark-blue hair. The man growled and started to mutter to himself.
Guinevere raised an eyebrow. This man was rather old, maybe about fifty years of age, so the teenaged girl was obviously not his lover. Maybe it was his….
"That's my daughter." The man finally blurted out. "She turns eighteen this summer." Guinevere smiled. "She's the same age as my grandson."
"Your grandson?" The man asked, surprised. "But you look so…oh never mind." Guinevere laughed. "I look younger than I really am. Tell me; is she your only child?"
The man snorted. "She's my only DAUGHTER, and I'm not letting any hormonal teen touch her." He gripped his fists, and dark swirls of magic hummed around his knuckles.
"Now now." Guinevere made a "tsk" noise with her teeth. Wizards. "Let things take their course. I was exactly like this when my daughter started dating, but now she's happily married with a son. If I had been too possessive, then I would never know the joys of watching her bloom into a woman."
The man sighed, rubbing his temple with his hand. "I know that, but how should I know if the boy's right for her?"
"Have you met him before? I made it a rule that I meet anyone my children are dating." Guinevere admonished. The man nodded. "He's the son of that famous Ice-Wizard of Fairy Tail."
"Oh, Silver! The son of Gray Fulbuster. I know him. He loves my cinnamon rolls." Guinevere peeked out of the window again. The girl was laughing as the boy waved his hand and tiny rabbits made of crystals and ice leapt around her. She scooped one up and it nuzzled her cheek.
"Niagra is all I have of my wife." The man murmured. "She grows more like her every day." Guinevere made a sympathetic noise. "I'm sorry. Niagra seems like a beautiful child."
"Her mother was beautiful." The man ran a hand through his hair. "Niagra took after her. My sons take after me, it seems." Guinevere watched as the boy teasingly stole one of the red ribbons out of Niagra's hair. Niagra squealed and tried to reach the ribbon in the tall boy's hands.
"They've been together almost for a year now." The man whispered. "But I just can't seem to let her go." Meanwhile, Silver grinned at Niagra and kissed her gently before returning the ribbon back to her. Niagra blushed but seem pleased, and the two began to walk further away down the street.
The man straightened with a groan. "Now I have to sneak around to the Weapons Shop next door to watch them." He was about to go the door and leave but Guinevere stopped him. "Let them have their privacy." She said softly. "It's only right. Plus, I'll give you some cinnamon rolls, free of charge."
The man hesitated, watching his daughter laugh as Silver pinched her cheek, and sighed when they turned the corner and disappeared. "Very well. She is a good girl and won't do anything foolish."
"That's the right attitude." Guinevere smiled and produced the rolls. She sniffed the tang of the cinnamon, the richness of the cream and exhaled blissfully. "Still warm."
As the man ate slowly, smiling a little at the savory treat, Guinevere sat down next to him. The evening light was warm and golden, and it warmed her throughout. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"I'm Rogue. Rogue Cheney." He looked at her. "Yours?"
"Just Guinevere. Guinevere Acazi."
A/N: Like it? Please leave a review, and I will have Guinevere, an original character I made for my own story, bake you some cinnamon rolls!