Page 31 of Daddy Christmas

"Did that just happen?" I asked, turning to Nicholas.

"Yep," he said casually, stepping closer. "Come on. There’s more to see."

"More thanthat?" I gestured weakly toward the spot where Ella had disappeared.

"Much more." His smile softened, but there was something unreadable in his eyes, like he knew exactly how overwhelmed I felt.

The workshop was chaos.Beautiful chaos.

It was bigger than I expected, sprawling across several stories with twisting staircases and conveyor belts running alongthe walls. Sparks flew from strange machines that hummed and whirred, their gears glowing faintly with some kind of energy I couldn’t name. Elves zipped between workstations, their movements quick and precise despite the frenzy.

"Is this—" I started, but Nicholas cut me off.

"Toy production," he said simply.

"Yeah, I got that much." My head tipped back as I tried to take it all in. The ceiling stretched impossibly high, glittering with lights that looked like stars.

"Watch," he murmured, guiding me closer to one of the stations.

An elf stood on a platform, holding what looked like a block of wood. He set it down on a glowing surface, and I swear I saw the wood shimmer before it started moving—splitting apart, reshaping itself, coming together again like pieces of a puzzle. Within seconds, it was no longer a block but a perfectly carved wooden train, complete with tiny wheels that actually turned.

"That’s not possible," I whispered.

"Sure it is," Nicholas said, leaning casually against the edge of the platform.

"How?"

"Magic." He shrugged, like that explained everything.

"Right. Of course." My fingers twitched at my sides. I wanted to touch it, to prove it was real, but I didn’t dare.

"Go ahead," he coaxed, noticing the hesitation.

"Really?"

"Really."

I reached out slowly, half expecting the train to vanish the moment my hand got close. But it didn’t. It was solid, smooth under my fingertips, and warm—not like wood should feel.

"Unreal," I muttered, shaking my head.

"Very real," Nicholas corrected gently.

"How long have they been doing this?" I asked, nodding toward the elves bustling around us.

"Centuries," he said, his voice tinged with something like pride.

"Centuries," I echoed, barely able to wrap my head around it.

"Impressive, isn’t it?"

"That’s an understatement." I laughed softly, though it came out shaky.

"Come on." His hand brushed the small of my back, light enough to make me shiver. "There’s still more to see."

"Of course there is," I said under my breath, letting him lead me deeper into the madness.

The market stretched outbefore us, a kaleidoscope of color and movement. Stalls lined the cobblestone paths, their awnings striped in reds and greens, twinkling with tiny lights that blinked like they were alive. I barely knew where to look first—one table glittered with ornaments shaped like snowflakes, each one refracting light like it had caught the stars themselves. Another was loaded with scarves and mittens knit so finely they looked too perfect to be real.

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