The idea of the first ever 'Royal Academy of Magical Baking Talent Show' caught on faster than Lyra expected. Just as Marzy had pointed out, everyone was eager for something to look forward to. Even Professor Puff's eyes gleamed with unconcealed enthusiasm when the second-years pitched the idea to her at the start of the next Texture lab day.

"Aspiring Baker Marzipan is quite right," the professor said. "Regardless of what happens in the future, this year has seen the manifestation of a new form of magic. Such a momentous occasion ought to be celebrated. And besides…"

A smile flickered across the professor's face to match the mischievous sparkle in her eye.

"We all deserve a bit of fun."

Chef Flax graciously agreed to organize, supervise, and serve as master of ceremonies for the evening, with the understanding that he could still have a performance slot of his own. All 'Aspiring Performers' had to run their proposed talent by him to ensure a spot on the program. Within a few days, nearly everyone was buzzing with plans and preparations. It was a rare conversation indeed that didn't include at least some mention of the approaching festivities.

A week after the idea's birth, Marzy and Arch stopped by the second-year table at dinner to share their excitement and discuss their tentative performance strategies.

"Arch is going to draw something on a big easel," Marzy explained, apparently so caught up in the thrill of the developing 'talent show recipe' that she forgot to be tongue-tied in Boysen's presence. "Or maybe make a building out of cake and then decorate it. It's easy for him, since he's got such an obvious skill to show off. I'm not sure about me, though."

"Impressions," Arch said firmly. "How many times have I told you? They're really good."

"Impressions?" Lyra echoed.

Arch leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Marzy is amazing at impressions. She does everyone. All the professors, and the Apprentice Bakers, and Chef Flax… she's even learned a couple words in flying squirrel so she can do Bumble and Sprinkle."

Marzy blushed. "It's just a hobby. I don't know if that would be appropriate."

"Why not?" Boysen looked around at his fellow second-years for confirmation. "Sounds like just the sort of thing a talent show is made for, wouldn't you say?"

Caramelle hesitated. "Possibly. Only if the portrayals are respectful, and not… not…"

"Mean?" Mac supplied.

"Oh, I doubt there's any danger of that." Boysen turned to Lyra with a grin so close to one of the old 'Lyra-only' specials that she nearly choked on her bite of fettuccine. "Right, Lyra? You'll vouch for Marzy's non-meanness?"

Somehow, Lyra managed to swallow the delicious noodles without spraying the browned butter garlic cream sauce across the table. Then she gave a vigorous nod.

"Absolutely. In fact, I believe that every person currently around this table, standing or sitting, would not deliberately engage in any 'mean' behavior. I'd swear on all the sharps and flats," she said.

He was still looking at her. Still grinning a mostly non-generic grin. "Swear by all the seasonings, you mean?"

"Both," she squeaked, barely managing to keep the roaring Berry melody from escaping through her lips as a string of hysterical giggles. "All. By the sharps and seasonings and flats, these are all good people here."

"I agree." Boysen turned to Caramelle. "Satisfied, Meringue?"

Caramelle gave Marzy a warm smile. "Quite. That sounds like an impressive skill, not to mention extremely diverting. I particularly look forward to seeing your take on Professor Puff."

Marzy beamed and said a hearty farewell to the whole table before skipping towards the kitchens, taking Arch with her to present their talents for Chef Flax's approval.

Lyra noted with wonder that Marzy hadn't displayed any signs of her usual 'Flavor King Fever' throughout the conversation. Even when addressed directly by Boysen, she had remained coherent and relaxed. Her goodbye to him had been just like all the others, without so much as a fleeting flinch or stray squeal.

Maybe she's recovered, Lyra thought, winding another bite of fettuccine around her fork. All on her own. Without any cruel rejection to snap her out of the daze, like I needed last year with Cardamom…

She closed her eyes, savoring both the exquisite Flavor notes of Sprinkle's wild garlic and the memory of Boysen's almost-normal, semi-exclusive grin.

Cherry Marzipan, you're made of stronger dough than I.

The second-years had already discussed their own talent show plans at length. Lyra was going to sing, of course, accompanying herself on the guitar. She had also agreed to provide the musical background for Caramelle's talent.

"I can't believe I'm actually going to dance," the auburn-haired girl sighed after Marzy and Arch were safely out of earshot. "It's been so long… maybe I should just drag a board up on the platform and solve equations instead."

"Only if you really want to." Lyra nudged the tray of tiramisu slices towards Caramelle, who took one absent-mindedly. "Remember, this is about doing whatever brings you joy."

"Baking brings me joy," Caramelle mused. As if to emphasize her point, she fell silent for a few seconds while examining the tiramisu, sighing with delight over the superb Texture of Bumble's espresso cream. Then she tossed her immoveable auburn coils with a determined air. "But so does ballet. I never get to do it anymore, and I miss it. So that's my talent. Hold me to it, Lyra."

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Lyra promised to do so, and to employ Mac's help if necessary. The bespectacled boy responded with a beaming smile of wordless glee.

Macaron Fondant's zeal for the talent show nearly rivaled Marzy's. Lyra considered this only fair, since his was the act everyone else was most looking forward to. Fortescue the Foppish Fox would be making his debut at the Royal Academy for the occasion. Together, he and Mac were going to perform an onstage makeover of a yet-to-be-revealed participant.

Not even Caramelle knew anything about this mystery guest. Mac ignored all his fellow Puff Paragons' pleading for some kind of hint.

"The surprise is part of the joy," he insisted whenever they brought it up. "Mustn't spoil it. And at least you know what I'm doing, right?"

He shot a sour look at his former Whisk roommate. "More than any of us can say for Boysen."

This was all too true. While the Flavor King entered with great fervor into all talent show talk, he had declared from the start that his planned activity was and would remain a secret. 'Chef Flax signed off' was his only answer to all inquiries. The other second-years eventually had to give up.

Thankfully, Boysen was the only participant in the talent show who was keeping a tight lid on his performance plans. There was plenty of more public knowledge available as ingredients for daily conversation. The professors, in particular, provided ample material for the second-years' endless speculation.

Professor Genoise announced early on that he would be performing an aria from his long-lost opera days. Then he kept announcing it, in nearly every interaction, always following up quickly with a lament about his 'rusty stage presence' and 'lack of practice opportunities.' The second-years occasionally heard him vocalizing in the stairwell between classes, though he always scurried away at the sound of their approach.

Professor Honeycomb was not nearly so coy or self-effacing about her plans.

"Of course, it has been a while," she said cheerfully. "But tap dancing and baton twirling are like making shortbread for me. I did this routine so many times… so many, many times. Even now, I could probably perform it in my sleep."

Unlike Professor Genoise, Professor Honeycomb did not limit her practice sessions to stolen moments in the stairwell. The second-years became accustomed to the Flavor headmistress breaking into the time step while watching them perform filo spells or using flap backs to make her way across the classroom. Boysen even swore he had caught a glimpse of some fancy baton-work while walking past the first-years' Flavor lab.

"I couldn't say for sure," he reported in a hushed voice during the Puff Paragon Review that evening, "but I think… maybe… the baton ends were on fire?"

Professor Puff did not insert her talent into the classroom with such seamless abandon. But she also made no secret of her proposed skills, which were nearly as shocking to the second-years as the thought of a flame-wielding Honeycomb.

"I have always been fond of poetry," Professor Puff told them when stopping by the practice kitchen one Friday afternoon. "Not only have I memorized a great deal, I have also dabbled in my own creations. They are not intended for general consumption in ordinary circumstances, but… this is a special occasion."

She looked around at the second-years, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "Why, pray, do you look so surprised?"

"I thought you'd display your embroidery," Caramelle admitted.

"Ah, yes. Rather difficult to showcase in a performative setting," Professor Puff pointed out. "And for me, needlework is more of a habit than a hobby. It keeps my hands busy while I'm reading poems or composing one in my head."

"And poetry brings you joy?" Lyra pressed.

Professor Puff sighed. "A great deal of joy, Aspiring Baker Treble."

For a fleeting moment, Lyra heard an unmistakably wistful melody humming through the air around the sedate professor. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, but Lyra didn't think she would ever forget it.

This talent show is bringing out all sorts of revelations already, she thought as they turned their attention to another round of Enjoyment experiments. It really is just what we need.

There were opponents to the talent show idea, of course. Mac noted with a grimace that this camp overlapped almost perfectly with the anti-Enjoyment crowd. The second-years didn't need Arch and Marzy's reports to know that Chantilly Joconde would not be participating, oh SALTS no, and that the whole affair was a sad testament to the soggy state of the baking world.

Florentine Clafoutis was the most vocal dissenter. She could often be heard holding forth about 'the squandering of precious academy resources' and 'childish time-wasting tripe.' Professor Genoise got so annoyed during one long lab day with the second-years that he actually banished Florentine from the classroom.

"Presentation is a dignified discipline," he reminded the sputtering Apprentice Baker. "It demands utter self-control from the baker. This emphasis on dignity extends also to the baker's personal conduct. If you cannot behave in a self-controlled manner, you are communicating to me that you are not yet ready to pursue Presentation in a professional capacity. Go to the academy kitchen and report to Chef Flax for the rest of the day. You may return to my class tomorrow."

His tone was so severe that not even Florentine dared argue. She departed for the kitchens without another word. From that day on, she kept her talent show rants out of the professors' hearing.

Eclair Tatin's protests were much more silent in their manifestations. In fact, the Flavor apprentice hardly talked at all. She seemed to be shrinking as the year drew to a close, bowing ever more deeply under the weight of her many duties. Lyra couldn't help feeling sorry for the increasingly pale girl.

"Eclair could use a dose of joy more than anyone," she said to Caramelle one evening, as they met in the bathroom between Shortcrust and Filo for their nightly skin-and-hair routines. "I don't think she even minds the idea of the talent show. Not really. But it's just one more ingredient, and her menu's already overflowing."

Caramelle nodded thoughtfully. "I know what that's like… we should talk to Rye. Maybe he could get her to come 'round."

Apprentice Baker Galette, as expected, had joined in the talent show refrain from the very first verse. Not only had he volunteered to help Chef Flax with the arrangements, but he could also be seen practicing his juggling routine in various open areas around campus.

"It's all about precision," he explained one night after dinner, when the Puff Paragons found him outside the dorm, busily keeping four wooden pins aloft. "Uses a lot of the same skills as Texture, really. But it brings me joy. And it helps pass the time, y'know?"

He was right. Even more surprising than the rapid acceptance of the talent show scheme was how fast it made time fly by. The prospect of 'a bit of fun' waiting at the end of the dreary third-term tunnel added a dash of zest to each weary week. Within the first few days, Lyra was delighted to find the event had developed its own melody line, bright and carefree and loud enough to muffle the jangled chorus of all her other internal tunes.

They were all still there, of course. "Filo Frenzy" wasn't going anywhere. She had to see it through to the end of term. Same with "Enjoyment Anxiety", and the ever-present, ever-complex Berry melody.

But that particular evening, as she watched Rye effortlessly add a fifth pin to the four already in the air, all she could hear was the 'Talent Show Tune' bursting into a new key change.

Fun has a strength all its own, she thought, applauding along with her fellow second-years. And I think it's going to see us through.

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