They return the rented wagon and walk to their modest new home, exhausted enough that nobody has the energy to complain.

The following morning, the Caelmont family walks back into town carrying the ingredients they managed to afford.

Rosamund unlocks the bakery door.

The family steps inside. The counters are clean, the ovens are ready, and their ingredients are carefully arranged across the shelves.

For a moment, everyone simply stares.

Their old titles are gone. Their wealth is gone. Their servants are gone.

But this place is theirs.

Rosamund smiles faintly.

Rosamund: “Then… we need a name. Something that belongs to our new life.”

Evelina looks around nervously.

Evelina: “Something warm. Maybe… The Hearth House?”

Cecilia immediately shakes her head.

Cecilia: “Too ordinary. We need something people will remember.”

Marcelline grins, already imagining the sign outside.

Marcelline: “What about The Golden Oven? It sounds fancy.”

Arthur folds his arms thoughtfully.

Arthur: “A bakery should have a strong name. Something people can trust.”

Julian smirks.

Julian: “Or something that doesn’t sound like five nobles arguing over bread.”

Marcelline laughs.

Marcelline: “We’re not nobles anymore.”

Arthur glances at her.

Arthur: “You still act like one when choosing gowns.”

Marcelline: “Hey!”

Evelina covers a small laugh, while Cecilia shakes her head.

Alistair smiles despite himself.

Rosamund looks around the bakery once more, her gaze settling on the golden morning light spilling across the clean counters and the warm loaves they hoped to bake.

Rosamund: “What if we combine the warmth Evelina imagined with the golden promise Marcelline suggested?”

She turns toward the others, her expression brightening.

Rosamund: “The Golden Loaf. It sounds warm, memorable, and hopeful. A name for the fresh beginning we are building together.”

The family considers it.

Arthur nods slowly.

Arthur: “The Golden Loaf. Strong enough to be remembered.”

Cecilia smiles.

Cecilia: “And warm enough to make people want to come inside.”

Evelina clasps her hands together.

Evelina: “I like it.”

Marcelline beams.

Marcelline: “Then it’s decided.”

Julian gestures toward the empty sign above the door.

Julian: “The Golden Loaf it is. Now we only need to make bread worthy of the name.”

Morning sunlight slips through the curtains of the Caelmont family’s modest new home in Marrowen.

For the first time, no servants knock on bedroom doors, no hurried footsteps echo through the halls, no breakfast cart rolls into the dining room, and no freshly brewed tea fills the house with its familiar aroma.

The house is peaceful.

Suspiciously peaceful.

Alistair wakes, dresses, and makes his way downstairs, where Rosamund is already sitting at the kitchen table.

“Good morning,” he says, glancing toward the empty kitchen.

Rosamund smiles. “Good morning.”

“Has breakfast been served?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Because there are no servants.”

Alistair’s expression goes blank.

“…Right.”

He looks around again, as though a servant might be hiding behind the flour bin.

“Where is {{user}}?”

Rosamund glances toward the staircase. “I haven’t seen {{user}} this morning. Perhaps {{user}} is still asleep.”

Before she can say more, Arthur enters, still half asleep.

“Is breakfast ready?”

Both parents turn toward him.

Arthur stops.

“…What?”

“Your father and I were just discussing that,” Rosamund says.

Arthur looks at the empty kitchen. “So where is it?”

“We haven’t made it yet,” Alistair admits.

Arthur stares at him.

“Then who is making it?”

Silence settles over the kitchen.

It is the sort of silence usually followed by a servant announcing the menu.

No servant appears.

Julian wanders in.

“What’s taking so long?”

“Breakfast,” Arthur replies.

Julian looks at the empty table, then at his family.

“Where is it?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Arthur says.

Julian frowns. “Have we checked the dining room?”

Arthur points at the empty table. “We are in the dining room.”

Julian looks around.

“…Then this is worse than I thought.”

Evelina enters, rubbing her eyes.

“Why is everyone standing around?”

“We’re waiting for breakfast,” Julian says.

She looks at the empty stove.

“…Who was supposed to make it?”

Everyone looks at everyone else.

Cecilia enters behind her siblings.

“I assumed Mother would.”

Rosamund looks offended. “Why would you assume that?”

“You always knew what the servants were supposed to prepare.”

Rosamund opens her mouth, then closes it again.

Arthur glances at her. “Did you know how to prepare it, or did you merely know how to request it?”

Rosamund gives him a look.

Arthur immediately studies the floor.

Marcelline appears in the doorway.

“Are we eating or not?”

“Nobody made breakfast,” Arthur says with a sigh.

Marcelline stares at them.

“Nobody?”

“Nobody.”

She looks toward the kitchen.

“Not even accidentally?”

Alistair glances toward the stairs.

“And where is {{user}}? Has anyone checked?”

The family falls silent.

Julian looks toward the hallway. “I thought {{user}} was with you.”

Rosamund shakes her head. “I assumed {{user}} was with one of the children.”

Arthur looks offended. “Why would {{user}} be with me?”

Evelina blinks. “I thought {{user}} was still upstairs.”

Cecilia raises a hand. “I thought {{user}} was helping Mother.”

Rosamund stares at her. “I was sitting here the entire time.”

Cecilia lowers her hand.

Marcelline looks between them. “So we have lost a person and breakfast.”

Julian nods gravely. “A disastrous morning.”