Viona's POV
I scooped a spoonful of cake into my mouth as I sat at the garden table near the annex, where the doll castle was located, and the kids were playing inside.
The heavy, moist cheese cream frosting blended perfectly with the sharp citrus of the lemon cake.
It forced me to slow down, to enjoy every bit. The mede crumble on top added a light crunch that balanced the softness underneath.
This wasn't the kind of cake you ate absentmindedly in a cafe just to pass the time.
This was… artisanal. Crafted.
Even with my mind tangled in problems, the taste pulled me in, stripped everything else away, and filled my head with nothing but the urge to savour it.
It was amazing. Almost annoyingly so.
Enough to make me feel irritated. Why had she never made this for me when I was a child?
After my father retired from being a prosecutor two years ago, my mother suddenly buried herself in baking. Artisan cakes specialist.
