La fée rêve

The air in Eve Agnoly’s studio shimmered with golden light. Autumn had crept in overnight, painting the trees in fiery hues of amber and crimson and bringing with it the crisp promise of cozy afternoons.

Inside the small, fairy-lit workshop of La Fée Rêve, the scent of pumpkin, caramel, and freshly brewed coffee swirled like an incantation, weaving magic into the air.

Eve stood by her workbench, fingers dusted with cinnamon powder, her heart alight with inspiration. The season always awakened something deep inside her, as though the falling leaves whispered secrets meant only for her. This autumn, her newest candle — Pumpkin Caramel Coffee — was about more than just the aroma; it was about capturing a story, a memory, and a feeling so tangible it could wrap around you like a warm scarf on a chilly day.

The memory that inspired it had come to her suddenly, like a gust of wind that sent a cascade of leaves fluttering. She had been fifteen years old, sitting on a weathered wooden bench outside her uncle and aunt’s house in her grandmother’s seaside town. It was one of those rare days when she had been allowed a sip of coffee — a tradition her mother had forbidden but her uncle delighted in bending.

Eve’s hands cradled a steaming mug of milky coffee, topped with a frothy dollop of whipped cream. She wasn’t interested in the coffee itself; her real treasure sat on the plate in front of her: a slice of pumpkin caramel cake, soft and dense, draped in golden caramel and sprinkled with toasted pecans.

Her aunt had leaned in with a mischievous twinkle in her eye and whispered, “This is what autumn tastes like, my dear. Sweet, warm, and just a little bit bold.” Eve had taken a bite, and the flavors had danced on her tongue like an autumn festival. For years after that, the scent of pumpkin, coffee, and caramel would conjure up not just the taste of that cake but the feeling of that day: the sound of laughter, the crisp sea breeze, and the love of her uncle and aunt, who understood the importance of small indulgences.

Now, years later, Eve sought to distill that memory into wax and wick. She wanted her candle to feel like stepping into an autumn afternoon, where the world seemed to slow down, and every sip of coffee or bite of cake was an act of magic

At her workbench, Eve meticulously layered her ingredients. She began with the base notes: the rich, grounding aroma of freshly brewed coffee, a nod to the café’s comforting ambiance. Next, she melted soy wax infused with the sweetness of caramel, letting its golden hue reflect the light of the candles flickering around her. Finally, she added the heart of the scent: pumpkin spice, with its warm blend of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves, whisked with the creamy richness of vanilla.

As she poured the mixture into glass jars, she smiled. The color of the wax was a perfect deep amber, reminiscent of caramelized sugar on a crisp fall morning. She adorned each candle with a touch of whimsy — a sprinkle of biodegradable glitter and a tiny wax pumpkin perched on top, as though it had just rolled in from a pumpkin patch.

The next morning, Eve carried a tray of the finished candles into the front of her shop. The studio’s windows were slightly fogged from the cool air outside, but through them, she could see the first rush of autumn shoppers strolling by, scarves wrapped snugly, leaves crunching underfoot.

She set the candles on display beneath a handwritten sign that read:
“Pumpkin Caramel Coffee — Light the wick, and let autumn’s sweetest moments find you.”

It didn’t take long for the scent to draw people in. A young couple entered first, exclaiming over the candle’s design and lifting it to their noses. “It smells like a cozy café in autumn,” the woman said, her voice soft with wonder.

Behind them came a woman in her sixties who picked up a jar, closed her eyes as she inhaled, and smiled. “This reminds me of the pumpkin cake my grandmother used to bake,” she said quietly.

Eve’s heart swelled. She didn’t need to explain the story behind the candle — it was already doing its work, evoking memories, weaving magic. Every inhale was a door opening to someone’s cherished past or dreamed future.

Later that evening, Eve sat at her desk in the back of the shop, jotting notes in her journal.
The thing about autumn, she wrote, is that it’s a season of transitions. A time when the earth teaches us that letting go — of leaves, of warmth, of long days — doesn’t have to be sad. It can be sweet, rich, and beautiful. Like caramel melting into coffee. Like the last bite of pumpkin cake before winter sets in. Like the glow of a candle on a dark evening.

She glanced at the row of candles she’d created, their amber wax glowing softly under the fairy lights. A thought struck her, and she smiled. Maybe the scent wasn’t just a bridge to memory.

Maybe it was a spell — an invitation for anyone who lit it to slow down, breathe in the magic of the season, and create their own golden autumn moments.

And so, Pumpkin Caramel Coffee became more than a scent. It became a ritual, a story in a jar, a piece of Eve’s soul poured out for the world to carry into their homes. And with every candle lit, autumn’s sweetest magic would flicker to life once more.

https://www.lafeereve.com

La Fee Reve will appear as well in our upcoming Chandlers Coffee Tablebook
with an additional beautiful special >>