Professor Vask stood by the polished brass-framed door, eyes locked on her pocket watch as she kept an eye on the time.
Most of the attendees had already filed into the meeting room, and she counted at least nine heads from the members list. The talk hadn't started yet, thankfully, and her ear feathers itched as if she just knows that it's important for her to keep an eye out for a certain someone.
And more importantly…
"Tsk. Still no sign of Raveena. That brat better not be napping again."
The professor narrowed her eyes and began mentally constructing an entire paragraph's worth of scolding. Starting with "Assistant means present," and ending with "I will not tolerate excuses about the Summit being distracting."
But, just as she was in the middle of her thoughts.
"Oh my… has the meeting begun already, perhaps…?"
A soft, fluttery voice chimed beside her. Almost as sweet sounding as honey.
Professor Vask turned to look. There, she saw standing just off to the side were two rabbit-folk, one woman and one man.
The woman was well-dressed and had pastel-pink wavy and bouncy hair that gathered gently behind her shoulders, part of her bangs hid one eye halfway. Underneath that, she had a face that was in the midst of looking apologetic and nervous, like she feared she was trespassing around the Concorde Summit for every step she made.
The man standing with her was wearing simple, but stylish clothes. He was brown-haired, kind-eyed, with his hands folded politely behind his back.
Professor Vask swore they look familiar. Because if she thought that they were, then surely, they're one of the important delegates that she should at least know about.
Yet, she felt shame because she couldn't currently identify them.
"Ah," still, she spoke up, just in case. "You're here for the panel, I take it? May I ask which one?"
The rabbit-folk woman inclined her head slightly. "Oh! Yes, dear… we were assigned to the Culinary Integration Talks. I was told it'll be held on the third chamber on the eastern ring, was it not…?"
"You're correct," the professor replied, clearing her throat. "This is the place. The talk hasn't begun yet, so it seems, so you're right on time."
"Ah, is that so? That's a relief, Noah…" the pink-haired woman sighed as she looked at her companion, who simply smiled back at her and nodded.
"Oh, where are my manners…" the woman then said, turning back toward Professor Vask with a soft laugh. "My name is Mireille Ribbuns. And this gentlebun here—" she gestured with a small tilt of her head, "—is my husband."
The man gave a cordial nod toward the professor, smiling warmly. "I'm Noah Ribbuns. A pleasure to meet you."
Upon their introductions, something clicked within Professor Vask's head.
"Ribbuns… representatives of Ribbuns Delight? Or perhaps… the owners? And not to mention that family…"
The professor set the thought aside for the moment and responded back with the best professional bow she could offer. "Professor Junna Vask. I'm a professor of Arcane Engineering at Saint Maribelle's."
After hearing the professor introduce herself, Mireille's eyes lit up. "Truly? Oh, well then, allow us to say that we're so very pleased the Concorde Summit is being hosted by Saint Maribelle's this year. It's such a lovely academy… and if our daughter is in such good hands there, then I daresay every delegate and member attending this summit is as well, yes!"
Professor Vask tilted her head at that mention.
"Daughter…? Hmm…"
She looked at Mireille again, and really looked.
"That gentle voice. Those eyes, the hair color, her Eastwyn way of speaking…"
"...Ah. How could I not realize that? This must be Aya Ribbuns' mother."
Professor Vask sighed through her nose.
"That fluffball," she thought. "So, she takes after her mother…"
The resemblance was uncanny.
"And frankly… adorable."
Then Mireille turned to her husband. "Dear, would you kindly offer Professor Vask one of the treats we prepared for the members and delegates?"
"Oh! Yes, of course, my sugar," Noah replied with a chuckle.
He shifted the basket he was holding. "Wait, a basket?" the professor thought as soon as she saw it. It was so natural that she had not noticed it, as if it was part of him, like his clothes.
From within, Noah pulled a small, parchment-wrapped bundle and held it out.
It looked like a cookie.
Mireille nodded her head to Professor Vask. "Please accept it, professor. Just a little token of gratitude. We made them especially for those attending this year's Summit."
The professor took it carefully. "Thank you. That's… thoughtful of you."
"It's handmade!" Mireille added with a slight melody on her tone. "Light on the sugar, just enough for those who enjoy sweets, and still pleasant for those who don't. We also made sure there are no common allergens—no nuts, no eggs, no dairy. Just pure deliciousness, yes yes!"
Professor Vask stared at the cookie in her hand, then looked back up at the rabbit-folk's smile. "Thank you. Truly. I'll give it a try after the meeting," she said as she tucked the cookie gently into her coat pocket, folding the parchment just so.
"You're most welcome, professor," Mireille replied. But, she had more to say. "If… if it isn't too much trouble to ask…"
"Yes?"
"How has our daughter been doing at school? I know the year's only just begun but, ohh… I simply can't help myself."
Beside her, Noah chuckled. "Please forgive my wife, professor. She does tend to flop headfirst into her worrisome phase."
Mireille turned and pouted at him, her cheeks puffing. "Oh hush, you! Our bun lives on her own, at a boarding school. You can't expect me to just twiddle my ears and not ask!"
"Sugar," Noah said with a grin, "Aya's been there for two years already. Make it three this year."
"But that doesn't mean I stop worrying!"
Professor Vask, who had been watching this gentle tug-of-war with amusement, let out a quiet laugh under her breath.
"I can't speak too directly," she said, "since I don't teach the Culinary strand. That honor goes to Professor Barlowe, Crispin Barlowe."
"Ah! Him, yes. My daughter writes to us about Professor Barlowe," Mireille nodded.
"He's a little terrifying to new students," Professor Vask added with a smirk, "but his standards are high and his care is… perfectly thorough."
Then, with a nod, she added, "And as far as I've seen, Aya Ribbuns has been doing just fine. Great, even. The academy suits her well, given that she is well loved by students and professors alike."
Mireille's breath fluttered into another relieved sigh. Noah gently squeezed her hand.
"Oh, thank the winds…" Mireille smiled.
"In fact… I believe I heard she was asked to join the student culinary team for this year's Concorde Summit. So, she's probably somewhere nearby, cooking meals, keeping busy with her friends," Professor Vask added.
Mireille's eyes brightened. "Really?! Our daughter is working in the Summit?"
The professor nodded. "Yes, most likely she is."
"Oh, dear, I knew she'd grow into it," Mireille whispered, turning toward Noah and holding both his hands. "She was baking cakes at five and writing tea recipes by seven, you saw her notes—!"
"I did, I did," Noah chuckled, clearly just as proud. "Didn't I always say she'd do something wonderful with her great smell and taste senses?"
"You said she'd open a tea cart," Mireille giggled.
"Which is still a wonderful plan!"
They both quietly beamed at one another like two buns watching their favorite pastry rise perfectly in the oven.
After a moment, Mireille blinked and turned sheepishly back to Professor Vask. "Oh dear crumbs, we're so sorry. We got a bit carried away there…"
But the professor shook her head lightly. "It's all right. It's only natural. If I had a daughter doing well at something, I'd be bragging too."
Mireille let out giggle, then gently tapped Noah's elbow. "Come now, dear. We should head inside and take our place."
"Right behind you, sugar," he said with a smile.
Mireille gave one last nod to Professor Vask. "Thank you again, professor. Truly."
And with that, the couple turned and pushed open the doors together, disappearing into the meeting room to join the others.
As the door shut behind the Ribbuns couple, Professor Vask exhaled quietly. "A lovely pair, those two. Almost overwhelmingly so…"
Then, just as she mumbled that.
"Professor?"
Came that one voice she knew all too well. She turned on her heel with a face carved from stone and exactly zero delight, which contrasted well with how she felt towards the Ribbuns couple just seconds ago.
There, hurrying toward her with a briefcase in hand was her student and niece, Raveena.
"What took you so long?" Professor Vask asked flatly, arms immediately crossing.
Raveena slowed as she reached her. "Sorry, I ran into a bit of a hiccup. But it's all good now."
Professor Vask didn't give an immediate response. Instead, she simply narrowed her eyes… and looked past Raveena, then scanned behind her, down the hall, before looking back at Raveena.
No one in sight for now.
"…What?" Raveena asked, sensing something. "What's with that look?"
Without a word, the professor brought her closed fist up to her lips, blew lightly across it like it was a spell…
Thunk!
She knocked it hard against the top of Raveena's head.
"Ow! What was that for you hag?!" Raveena hissed, recoiling and rubbing the spot.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been standing here?" Professor Vask asked quietly but still in a slightly angry tone.
"Not that long…" Raveena shrugged. "A few minutes?"
Moving like someone pulling a blade from a hidden sheath, the professor snapped open her pocket watch and thrust it up into view.
"Forty-seven," she said, clicking her nail against the watch lightly. "Forty-seven minutes. You're lucky the meeting hasn't started, not to mention dinner's coming up soon!"
Raveena winced. "...Okay, that's a little longer than I thought."
Professor Vask's ear feathers flared slightly at her niece's dismissive tone
"You think?!" she hissed.
Her hands clenched, fingers twitching like they wanted nothing more than to grab Raveena by the collar, shake her, then hurl her clean out one of the gilded windows.
But she didn't.
Mostly because she liked not having to explain injuries to the committee, and to Raveena's mother.
Also because, for all her sharp tongue and eagle-folk poise, Professor Junna Vask was not confident she could physically wrestle a full-grown panther-folk, even if said panther tried to shrink herself down emotionally at every opportunity.
Raveena looked lean, sure.
But that kid was dense.
Like "core-of-a-star" dense.
The professor pinched the bridge of her nose hard. "Stars above… you're lucky your mother would wring my neck if anything happened to you."
Raveena tilted her head. "Okay? So what are we standing here for? Are you going in or will you just stand here and keep talking?"
"Don't give me that tone," the professor snapped, shooting her a look. "You're the one who's late."
"I'm only late to you," Raveena muttered. "Not the actual meeting."
"Ugh…" Professor Vask waved a hand as if physically swatting away the logic. "Whatever, kid. Let's go."
Raveena nodded. "Good."