Lily of the Valley — Secrets Beneath the Stone — Chapter Six
Chapter Six
The bakery, as always, was awake long before the rest of the city. The warm orange glow of the ovens and lanterns bathed the kitchen and storefront in soft light, and the aroma of freshly baked bread swirled in the air like a comforting blanket. The rhythm of the bakery — the kneading, the shaping, the dusting of flour — had always grounded Lily, but now, every motion felt heightened, each movement of her hands, each roll of the dough, reminded her that she was not just baking loaves… she was counting down the moments ‘til she saw the sky again.
Her father stood nearby, deftly kneading a mound of dough. He whistled a soft tune and every so often would glance her way with a proud smile. There was no need for words — the pride was clear in his eyes as he watched her work.
“Don’t put those in the oven yet,” he called out gently, never missing a step in his own work. “They need to rise a little longer.”
Lily offered a nod and forced a small smile. Normally, she would have laughed and teased him for fussing over her technique, but today it was hard to laugh. Her gaze fell on her mother, standing at the far end of the counter, her hands moving briskly as she cut the dough into perfect, identical rolls. Her face was set in a stony expression, her eyes focused downwards, and she hadn’t said a word to Lily all morning. It was as if she were trying to ignore the very reality that loomed over them all — that in a short few days, Lily would be on the surface.
The silence between them hung heavy, like a dough that refused to rise. The tension settled in every corner of the bakery, growing thicker as the minutes dragged on. Every roll her mother kneaded seemed to hit the counter with an unspoken anger, each movement of her hands quick and forceful.
Finally, the quiet became unbearable, and Lily set down the tray she had been preparing.
“Mum,” she began hesitantly, the words thick in her throat. “Aren’t you… happy for me? I’m going to be a part of the Curator’s team! That’s… something, isn’t it?”
Her mother’s hands froze.
“Happy?” she hissed, her anger unmistakable. “How could I be happy, Lily, when my only child has been sanctioned to throw herself into danger?”
“It’s not like that.” Lily stepped closer, her voice soft and gentle, pleading with her mother to understand. “The surface is dangerous, but it’s not as bad as you think. There hasn’t been a casualty in years, not since the early expeditions. They’re careful now — they have guardsmen to protect us. I’ll be surrounded by them. And the Curator himself assigned a guardsman to look after me — just me.”
Her mother’s glare didn’t waver; if anything, it intensified.
“And what if something happens that the guardsmen can’t protect you from?” She threw down the dough she was shaping, her voice rising an octave. “You think it’s all blue skies and soft clouds up there, don’t you? But you don’t know the dangers, Lilian. You don’t know what could happen.”
“The guardsmen—“ Lily began, but her mother cut her off with a wave of her hand.
“The guardsmen can protect you from wild creatures and great beasts, yes, but they can’t fight the weather! You think it’s calm and beautiful but it can change in an instant. You’ve read the stories — storms that rip through the ruins like a wild beast, winds that could sweep you off your feet, sinkholes that swallow the ground whole.” Her voice trembled, thick with desperation. “And then what, Lily? What if something happens and you can’t get back? What if—“ she choked on the words, her fear so palpable it made Lily’s heart ache.
“I’ll be careful,” Lily promised, trying to keep her voice steady. “And it’s not like the expeditions go up there every day — I’ll still be here. I’ll still be helping in the bakery.” Her eyes pleaded with her mother to understand, to see her side of things. “This is my dream! I’m going to be a part of something important, I could find things that will change our world.”
“Your dream…” Her mother’s voice broke. The anger in her eyes transformed into something else — raw, unguarded pain. “And what about my dream? I dream of seeing my daughter grow up safe, to watch her live a full life here in the city, settling down with a nice boy and running the family business. Not up there. Not risking her life for nothing.”
Lily flinched, guilt washing over her like a wave, but beneath the guilt was a simmering frustration and it bubbled up before she could stop it.
“I’m not just running into danger for no reason,” she said, her voice rising with her own emotion. “I’m going to be chronicling the surface! Helping bring back artifacts, reclaiming old technologies, learning about our history. Why can’t you see that this is important?”
“Important?” Her mother’s voice turned icy cold. “What’s important is your life. Not throwing yourself at some glorified adventure.” She shook her head, her anger flashing once more before she turned away. “You’re a fool to think this is anything more than a stupid risk. I won’t support it.”
She stormed off to the back of the bakery, slamming the door behind her. The force of it rattled the trays on the shelves, sending a cascade of flour dust into the air.
Lily stood there, the silence swallowing her once more. Her hands shook as she picked up the tray and slammed it into the oven. Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She was angry, frustrated, but mostly hurt. She didn’t expect her mother to be overjoyed, but she had hoped — hoped that maybe, just maybe, her mother could see the opportunity for what it was. Why couldn’t she see? It was an honour! Her mother should be proud.
With a shaky breath, Lily focused on the task at hand, her anger giving way to resolve. This was her dream and it was going to become a reality with or without her mother’s blessing.
“Don’t let her get to you, Lily,” her father’s voice came, soft and steady. He placed a warm hand on her shoulder, his touch grounding her. “Your mother… she’s just scared. And when people are scared, they don’t always say what they mean.”
“I just wish she’d understand.”
“She does,” her father said gently, guiding her back to her work. “Deep down, she’s proud of you. She just needs time.” He took a deep breath, pausing to look at her with a twinkle in his eye. “Me, though? I’m bursting with pride! I’m telling everyone who will listen.” He beamed, trying to lighten the mood.
“Thanks, dad,” she murmured, forcing a small smile.
Together they continued to work, side by side, shaping rolls, preparing trays, and talking about the little things — how the dough was rising, how many cakes needed to be baked, how the tavern had placed yet another huge order of pies for that evening. There was comfort in the familiar motions, in the steady rhythm of the bakery, and for a while Lily allowed herself to forget the tension with her mother.
The day came and went, and soon the next day was upon her. As the expedition grew nearer, her restlessness also grew. There was an eagerness that made her movements quick and light, like a spark dancing on coals. She served customers, prepared dough, arranged pastries, but every so often her thoughts would wander and she would find herself staring out the window. Small breaks were taken throughout the day to pack for the journey. She sorted through supplies and clothes, filled her satchel with everything she thought she might need. Her fingers trembled when they brushed against the side of the camera and she imagined all the moments she would capture — the sky, the ruins, the astonishing discoveries, the world beyond the underground cities.
The morning of her departure was like stepping into a dream — familiar, but somehow different. Lily moved quickly, kneading dough, shaping rolls, her fingers working with muscle memory as her mind drifted far away. It drifted to the surface, to the sky, to the ruins she would soon explore. Every so often, her gaze flickered to the satchel resting on a nearby table, where the camera lay nestled amongst her supplies. She imagined lifting it to her eyes, clicking the button, capturing pieces of the world that would forever be preserved. And, of course, Xander would be beside her, watching over her.
When the first batch of breadrolls were ready, Lily and her father shared a quiet breakfast together. Her mother was no where to be seen. Lily kept glancing at the inner door of the bakery, hoping that her mother would come out for a proper goodbye, come out to enjoy a quick breakfast with them, but the door stayed closed.
A sharp knock sounded at the bakery door, and Lily’s heart stuttered in her chest. The expedition. Xander. It was time. She stood up quickly, almost knocking over her chair in her haste. She whipped off her apron, her fingers trembling as she smoothed down her clothes, and hurried toward the door.
When she pulled it open, there was Xander, standing tall in his guardsman uniform, a look of readiness in his eyes that matched the thrill coursing through her veins. He was the picture of confidence and calm — a contrast to the fluttering anxiety that danced with her heart. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, the symbol of his duty, but the smile on his face was warm and steady.
“Ready?” he asked.
Lily nodded quickly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m ready.” Her voice felt light and breathless, as if she might float away on the excitement alone. She turned back to the table, her eyes falling on the basket of freshly baked bread. Without hesitation, she picked up a small, neatly wrapped loaf she had made that morning — spiced with caveberry jam, a special recipe that was all her own.
“Here,” she said shyly, holding the loaf out to Xander. “I made this for you. You know… since you’re not having breakfast at the bakery today.”
Xander’s smile widened, the warmth in his eyes making her blush. He reached out, taking the loaf carefully from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers for just a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Thank you, Lily,” he said. “That’s... very thoughtful.”
Lily dropped her gaze, a little embarrassed by the intensity of his attention, but her heart swelled with pride as he tucked the loaf safely into his pack. She adjusted the strap of her satchel on her shoulder, the camera within resting heavily against her side, and turned to face her father one last time.
“Tell her I said goodbye,” she said softly, referring to her mother.
He nodded, unwavering in his support.
“I will. Now, off you go. Make us proud.”
Lily took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle across her shoulders, the enormity of what lay ahead pressing down on her. With one last, lingering look around the bakery — the bags of flour stacked neatly in the corner, the loaves cooling on their racks, and the window through which she had watched countless mornings begin — she turned and stepped out into the stillness of the early city. The cool underground air wrapped around her like a cloak, the familiar scent of stone and earth mingling with the warmth of the bread still lingering on her clothes.
Xander fell into step beside her, the rhythm of his stride calm and steady, every inch the guardsman he was. Yet, despite his composure, there was a warmth to his presence, a quiet reassurance that made Lily’s nerves settle, if only a little. Each of their footsteps echoed loudly against the cobblestones, the noise reverberating through the empty streets, giving voice to the city that had not yet awoken.
A few traders were beginning to set up their stalls in the market, their movements quiet and slow as they unloaded baskets of produce and set out the first goods of the day. It felt like a secret hour, this serene in-between time, and Lily couldn’t help but wonder if she would actually miss the city. Soon, she’d be walking on ground so different from this stone, with nothing but the sky above and ruins as far as the eye could see.
Xander's voice, low and easy, cut through her thoughts. “This’ll be a lot different from your little adventure a few days ago,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. He didn’t turn to look at her, but she could see the corners of his mouth curling upward as they walked. “A whole week on the surface — no sneaking back after an hour.”
Lily’s heart thudded faster at his words, the promise of a full week on the surface making her almost giddy. “A whole week,” she echoed, her voice soft with wonder. It felt almost too good to be true, the idea of being up there that long — enough time to actually see the world, to understand it, to breathe in everything that it had to offer.
Xander glanced at her then, his green eyes catching the lantern light. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” he said, his voice turning sincere. “But you’ll be alright. All the researchers are like that when they first get to the surface — overwhelmed, awestruck. And trust me, it doesn’t go away quickly. Every time you step out there, it feels like the first time.” His smile was warm, steady, and there was something in the way he spoke that gave her strength, a confidence that she could hold onto as they walked.
Lily tilted her head up to look at him, eyes shining with wonder. “How many times have you been up there?” she asked, unable to hide the curiosity in her voice. He spoke about the surface as though he’d seen it many times before, like it was a place that lived in his heart as much as it did in hers.
Xander's smile deepened, a touch of pride in his expression. “This will be my fourth time,” he said. “It never gets old, though. No matter how much you think you know what to expect, there’s always something new to find, a different challenge to face.”
“Four times...” Lily repeated, trying to imagine what it must be like to step onto the surface again and again, for weeks at a time. “You must’ve seen so much.”
Xander nodded thoughtfully, his eyes distant for a moment as though he was remembering something. “We’re gonna have a lot of time together, you know,” he added. “Plenty of time for stories. And you’ll get to see it all properly this time, not just a rushed glimpse.”
A thrill ran through Lily at the thought — their fates intertwined in a journey she’d dreamed about for so long. She grinned back, unable to keep the excitement from bubbling to the surface.
With each step toward the surface tunnels, the familiar city seemed to shrink behind them, leaving only the echo of their footsteps and the promise of the unknown — a world waiting just beyond the darkness.