White Lily Cookie Novels & Stories

I’m past caring. On my way out, I stop by the florist on the corner. The place smells like memory and heartbreak, a riot of color and perfume. I scan the options, fingers hovering over the usual suspects—roses, peonies, chrysanthemums—before settling on the lilies. White, pure, funereal. Perfect. “Can I help you?” the girl behind the counter asks. “I’d like a bouquet of white lilies,” I say, keeping my voice light. “Nothing too cheerful.”

she said, making me roll my eyes. “Yes, mom. We're working on things.” Lily said in an enthusiastic tone. “Please come in and close the doors. It's getting late out,” Lila said, making me look over at her immediately. Her eyes were fixed on me, letting me know that she got the flowers. “You're baking the cookies, right?” I asked, and she nodded. I pushed myself into the house immediately, with a grin. I was missing them. She always used to prepare them as a treat when we were still married.

There was no one to impress, no one who would notice or care. The lock on my door clicked; a sound so familiar I could distinguish it from all other basement noises, and Lily slipped inside, her face flushed with exertion and something else. Excitement, perhaps. It looked strange on her face; we'd both learned to keep our expressions neutral, our emotions hidden deep where they couldn't be used against us. "Quick," she whispered, producing a small, misshapen object from beneath her shirt. "Before anyone sees." I recognized it as a cake only by the single candle stuck into its center. It was lopsided and frosted unevenly, clearly pilfered in pieces and reassembled in secret.

"Gryffindor. Of course she is." "She's brave," Laila said softly. "And stubborn. Once she makes up her mind, that's it." "Like us," he replied quietly, the words weighted with meaning. She slid a plate across the counter toward him. "She made these." Jordan stared down at the cookies. "No way." "She decorated them herself. With my mom… and yours," Laila added, watching his reaction closely. He picked one up like it might break. "These are incredible. She really did all this?"

"But the Trial of Fire is for the uncertain. My children are not a question. They are the answer." ​I reached into the small pouch at my waist and pulled out a handful of crushed white petals—Lunar Lily, a rare flower that only grows where the True Bride walks. I tossed them into the air. Instead of falling, they ignited in mid-air, burning with a brilliant, cool silver light that didn't smoke.

"I apologize for my daughter's behavior." Marco chuckles "No worries." He smiled at me What the hell? Marco is their boss? Then, Lily... "Good evening, young master." The servants bowed again Lily... "Good evening." Lily smiled as she sat next to his dad Lily was wearing the same dress as me but hers was white while mine was black. WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?! Marco is my parents' boss so that means that Lily is the heir of LLM? Am I dreaming? Why didn't she tell me about this?

It's scent is sweet and calming, I mostly grow these types, along with Madonna lily, my two favorites. I grow each of the Lilium plant, but those two are my absolute favorite. After mixing the honey with the refined flower petal, I sprinkle a pinch of salt into the bowl and stirred for a good twenty seconds before putting the bowl in front of Collin. He stared at the bowl, then at me, the evidence of me not having his trust was clear as day and if I cared one bit would be a definite understatement. "It's either you drink it or you live without a voice" I shrugged.

I see Lily on her phone, and she sees the plate. "They want freshly baked cookies." I say. I slam the plate down, and go to the freezer to get the cookie dough. "We should poison the cookies." Lily says evilly. "Trust me, it wouldn't work out in the end. If one of them tried to sue me, they'll get their fancy lawyers and win." "I don't understand why they're all snotty. They would be nothing without their daddy's money." Lily says, helping me scoop the dough. Soon we're done, and put the batch in the oven. I grab a sliced apple, and dip it into the Nutella. A few seconds later, I hear they're blasting one of Sylvester's songs.

From my seated position, the cookies are at perfect eye level, and against my better judgment, I pick one off the top of the pile. It's dark brown and brittle. A few pieces flick off as I lower the cookie closer to the small plate my cup of coffee sits on. Burnt doesn't begin to describe the abomination in my hand. It looks like she put the cookie through torture. "What kind are they?" I ask before bringing the cookie to my lips. "Chocolate chip." Tabitha grins, looking down at the plate. "They're a little burnt." A little burnt is an understatement. That's like saying the Titanic nudged an icicle.

"Belgian chocolate is famous for its flavor. You should try it. These snacks are made with low calories and not overly sweet. Give it a try." Beatrice moistened her lips and took one of the cookies with pink icing on top. One bite, and she fell in love. The desire to be able to make cookies like this arose in Beatrice's heart. "I like it, it's delicious," praised Beatrice with joy. "Can I learn to make these snacks, Grandfather?" "Am I hearing correctly, Leora?" "Why should I be wrong?" Beatrice blinked in confusion. "Why do you want to learn things that others can do?"