A soft melody escaped my lips as I hummed along to the rhythmic sizzling of the pans. A faint, lingering smile played on my face, sparked by the memory of Theo's latest bizarre jokes.
Life had never felt this serene. No meticulous planning, no rigid schedules—just the quiet warmth of a home and a husband who truly cherished me, despite how consumed he had been by his duties this past month.
To be honest, a hint of neglect had begun to gnaw at me lately. We hadn't shared an intimate moment in two days, and the distance was starting to feel heavy.
I tried my best to be understanding; he had been utterly exhausted. Every time he stepped through the door, he barely had enough strength to wash away the day's grime before collapsing into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Sometimes, he didn't even make it that far.
In my mind, I had envisioned us cooking together—sharing laughter and lighthearted banter that breathed life into the kitchen. But reality, as it often does, had different plans.
Deep down, a cold resentment was festering toward these "Rites of Manhood."
Growing up, I had heard countless tragic stories from women who despised these traditions. They spoke of husbands lost to the hunt, never to return.
The memory of one particular woman still haunted me; she had been left to wail over a corpse that was nothing more than a bloodied scalp.
Back then, my heart was colder. "Let him die if he cannot prove his worth," I used to think. It was only a month of hunting monsters—how difficult could it be?
I viewed it as an inescapable duty, a romantic sacrifice. The idea of a husband risking his life against terrifying beasts just to prove he deserved to stand by my side... it felt poetic.
But that was before I loved Theo.
Now, the mere thought of losing him was paralysing. I could no longer sit idly at home while he ventured into the unknown.
That fear had forced my hand. I began following him in the shadows, a silent protector he never knew was there. He has no idea, but it was I who saved him from that Third-Tier beast.
He never mentioned the incident, likely wanting to spare me the worry, but I saw how close he came to death. Every day since the mist settled, I have been his shadow within the Fog Layer.
Technically, I haven't broken the rules of the rite. He never asked for my help—in fact, he explicitly forbade it. He simply has no inkling that I am even there.
Suddenly, a cold, piercing voice echoed in my mind.
"Enjoy yourself while you can, you fraud. You may have seized control of this body for now, but I will take it back. I promise you."
I bit my lip, suppressed rage boiling beneath the surface. "You are the fraud," I spat back internally. "You wouldn't even exist if it weren't for that cursed Elias Technique."
The voice let out a sharp, mocking cackle. "A fake denying her own nature? I'll prove who is real soon enough. Just give me time."
I struggled to regain my composure. "You're nothing but a glitch. Eventually, I will overcome this dissociation, and you will vanish forever."
"We shall see who vanishes. Enjoy your temporary marriage and your fleeting, fake emotions..."
Finally, the voice faded into a whisper and disappeared.
I exhaled a long breath of relief, trying to shake off the chill.
"Oh no!"
The smell of the kitchen snapped me back to reality. I lunged for the pans, stirring the food frantically before adding a splash of water and a fresh pinch of spices.
A wave of relief washed over me; the meal wasn't ruined. I forced myself to push that intrusive voice into the back of my mind. It had been haunting me once or twice a day for over a week now, and I was slowly growing accustomed to its spite.
I began dicing the meat, adding it to the pot with a sense of mounting anticipation. I couldn't wait to see Theo's reaction.
Time seemed to accelerate as I added the final touches to the feast.
Just as I was plating, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling my back against a solid chest.
"Sera, is dinner ready?"
"You know, you could ask without touching me," I teased, though I didn't move away.
Theo leaned in, his voice a playful, seductive purr against my ear. "But my main objective is right here."
A spark of heat flickered through me. "When you said 'food,' did you mean me?"
He let out a mock sigh. "No, not quite. You're far more precious than any meal. You're the very air I breathe."
I felt a tickle as he buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. "Are you some kind of pervert? Why are you so obsessed with my scent?"
"You've got it all wrong," he murmured. "I usually hate smells. But you take such good care of yourself... it makes your scent addictive."
After a few more playful attempts, I finally managed to slip out of his embrace before things took a "dangerous" turn. "Stop it, Theo. Let's eat first."
His eyes dropped with exaggerated disappointment. "Tsk. Fine. But I was really hoping for an appetiser."
A small pang of annoyance hit me when he didn't push further, but I brushed it aside and focused on the plates.
Once everything was set, we moved to the grand dining hall.
I watched him take the first bite, waiting for his verdict. Instead of speaking, Theo leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead.
"I can't even describe it. Thank you for giving that Moon Deer the respect it deserved."
"Is that all?" I challenged, trying to hide my smile. "And I'll just ignore the fact that you've stained my forehead with whatever was in your mouth."
"Alright, jokes aside," he said, his expression softening into something genuine.
"That was easily the second most delicious thing I've ever tasted in my life."