"…I swear," Aven muttered.
"If he asks me to cook again…"
She pointed the wooden spoon at the pot like a weapon.
"I'm poisoning his soup."
Merry's eyes widened.
"What?!"
Aven blinked, then waved her hand casually.
"Relax. Not real poison."
Merry looked very concerned.
"That's still not a normal thing to say about the king."
Aven groaned and leaned against the counter.
"Why is he even making me cook? This palace probably has a hundred cooks."
Merry shrugged.
"I don't know… maybe he just enjoys bullying you."
Aven paused.
"…Yeah."
She crossed her arms.
"That sounds exactly like him."
Merry nervously stirred the pot.
"You shouldn't say things like that about His Majesty."
Aven rolled her eyes.
"Oh please. He's not that scary."
Just then—
A voice came from the doorway.
"…That's a dangerous opinion to have in a royal kitchen."
Aven froze.
Slowly, she turned around.
Cassian stood at the door, arms crossed, clearly amused.
Aven sighed.
"You again?"
Cassian sniffed the air.
"…Should I be worried about the king's safety?"
Aven grabbed a carrot and threw it at him.
"Get out!"
Cassian caught the carrot easily and took a bite.
"Relax, girl."
Aven crossed her arms.
"You should be doing your work instead of wandering around."
Cassian shrugged casually.
"I just got a break."
Aven scoffed.
"From what? Standing against walls and annoying people?"
Cassian placed a hand on his chest dramatically.
"You wound me."
Merry tried very hard not to laugh.
Cassian noticed the pot and leaned slightly to look inside.
"…Should I call a priest for this soup?"
Aven grabbed the wooden spoon and pointed it at him.
"One more word and you're tasting it first."
Cassian raised his hands in surrender.
"Alright, alright."
Then he smirked.
"But if the king suddenly falls sick tonight, I'm telling everyone it was you."
Aven rolled her eyes.
"Please. He'd survive worse than my cooking."
Cassian studied her face for a moment.
Then he said quietly,
"…You talk about the king very casually."
Aven paused for half a second.
Then she shrugged.
"He started it."
Cassian chuckled.
"You're definitely strange."
Aven pointed the spoon at him again.
"And you're still in my kitchen."
Cassian leaned against the doorframe again.
"Correction."
He gestured toward the burnt pot.
"Our kitchen disaster."
Merry finally laughed.
Aven groaned.
The kitchen slowly quieted again.
Cassian leaned against the doorframe, still holding the half-eaten carrot.
Merry stirred the pot carefully.
Aven wiped her hands on a cloth.
"Alright," she said. "New plan. We start over before someone actually dies from this soup."
Cassian chuckled.
"Wise decision."
Aven pointed the spoon at him again.
"You're not allowed to laugh unless you help."
Cassian raised an eyebrow.
"Me? Cook?"
"Yes, you."
Aven crossed her arms.
"You're the one who walked in here uninvited."
Cassian sighed dramatically but stepped closer.
"Fine. But if this kitchen explodes, I'm blaming you."
Merry giggled quietly.
For the next few minutes, the three of them worked together.
Aven complained.
Cassian teased her constantly.
Merry tried to keep the soup from burning again.
Soon the kitchen filled with something that hadn't been there earlier—
Laughter.
At the same time…
Down the palace corridor.
Rowan walked beside one of his attendants.
They passed near the kitchen.
From inside—
Laughter echoed.
Rowan slowed slightly.
"…Who's in the kitchen?" he asked.
The attendant bowed slightly.
"Just the new kitchen girl, Your Majesty."
Rowan's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Just her?"
"No, Your Majesty."
The attendant hesitated.
"Captain Cassian is also there."
Another burst of laughter came from inside.
Rowan stood still for a moment.
Then he spoke calmly.
"…I see."
Rowan's gaze shifted toward the kitchen door.
The laughter inside didn't stop.
His expression didn't change.
But his gaze turned colder.
"Tell Captain Cassian," Rowan said quietly,
"That his break is over."
The attendant quickly bowed.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Rowan turned and continued walking down the corridor.
But his steps were slower now.
And his jaw was slightly tight.
Back in the kitchen…
Aven laughed as Cassian tried to chop vegetables properly.
"You're terrible at this."
Cassian frowned.
"I guard the king, not carrots."
Merry laughed again.
None of them noticed the palace guard entering the kitchen doorway.
"Captain Cassian."
Cassian looked up.
"Yes?"
"The king says your break is over."
Aven snorted.
"Wow. That was fast."
Cassian sighed.
"Looks like someone is watching me."
He put the knife down and glanced at Aven.
"Try not to poison the king while I'm gone."
Aven smirked.
"No promises."
Cassian chuckled and left.
The kitchen door closed behind him.
But somewhere in the palace…
Rowan was already wondering why the kitchen had sounded so lively.
Later that evening…
The royal dining hall was quiet.
Rowan sat at the long table while servants placed the dishes in front of him.
One servant carefully placed a bowl of soup near his plate.
Rowan glanced at it.
"…This is new."
The servant bowed.
"Yes, Your Majesty. It was prepared in the kitchen today."
Rowan looked at the bowl for a moment.
Then he asked calmly,
"…By whom?"
The servant hesitated slightly.
"The new kitchen girl."
Rowan's hand paused.
For a second, he didn't move.
Then he picked up the spoon.
The servant quickly stepped back.
Rowan slowly took a spoonful.
Across the room, two servants watched nervously.
He tasted it.
Silence.
A long silence.
One servant whispered quietly,
"…Is he alive?"
The other nudged him.
"Shh!"
Rowan placed the spoon down.
His expression was unreadable.
Then he took another spoonful.
And another.
The servants exchanged confused looks.
Finally, Rowan spoke.
"…It's not terrible."
The servants looked shocked.
Rowan leaned back slightly in his chair.
A small memory flickered in his mind—
A messy kitchen.
A younger Aven covered in flour.
Arguing with him.
Laughing.
Burning food.
Rowan blinked once and the memory disappeared.
He cleared his throat.
"Send a message to the kitchen."
The servant bowed.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Rowan looked at the bowl again.
Then he said calmly,
"Tell them…"
He paused.
"…the soup was acceptable."
The servant nodded and left.
Rowan stared at the soup for a moment longer.
Then he muttered quietly to himself—
"…Still terrible in the kitchen."
But there was the faintest hint of a smile.Meanwhile…
In the kitchen.
Aven paced back and forth.
"If he dies, I'm running away."
Merry looked horrified.
"He's not going to die!"
Just then a palace servant entered.
"The king has sent a message."
Aven froze.
"…What did he say?"
The servant bowed slightly.
"His Majesty said the soup was… acceptable."
Aven blinked.
"…Acceptable?"
She crossed her arms.
"That brat."
But Merry noticed something.
Aven was smiling.
Just a little.
That night…
The palace was quiet.
Most of the servants had already gone to sleep.
But in the kitchen—
A small light flickered.
Aven stood near the counter, staring into a pot.
She stirred slowly.
"…Acceptable," she muttered.
"Acceptable my foot."
She tasted the soup again and frowned.
"It was good."
She stirred again, annoyed.
"I hate him."
A voice suddenly came from the doorway.
"You always said that."
Aven froze.
Slowly… very slowly… she turned around.
Rowan stood at the entrance of the kitchen.
No crown.
No guards.
Just him.
Aven stared at him.
"…Do kings usually wander around kitchens at midnight?"
Rowan walked inside calmly.
"Do kitchen girls usually argue with soup at midnight?"
Aven crossed her arms.
"I wasn't arguing."
Rowan glanced at the pot.
"…The soup looked scared."
Aven rolled her eyes.
"Wow. The king learned jokes."
Rowan leaned against the table.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The quiet felt… strange.
Too familiar.
Rowan finally said,
"The soup was acceptable."
Aven narrowed her eyes.
"You already sent that message."
"I know."
He looked at her.
"I'm saying it again."
Aven scoffed.
"Don't flatter yourself. I wasn't cooking for you."
Rowan raised an eyebrow.
"You were cooking in my kitchen."
Aven pointed the spoon at him.
"You forced me to."
Rowan looked at the spoon.
Then back at her.
"…You used to point spoons at me like that before too."
Aven's hand froze.
For a second… the past slipped into the room.
She quickly lowered the spoon.
"That was a long time ago."
Rowan's expression softened slightly.
"Yes."
A quiet pause.
Then Rowan said quietly,
"…You still burn the soup."
Aven grabbed a towel and threw it at him.
"Get out of my kitchen!"
Rowan actually laughed.
A real laugh.
For a brief moment—
It felt like nothing had changed.
Rowan caught the towel easily.
He looked around the room slowly.
Then his eyes returned to her.
"…Your kitchen?"
Aven crossed her arms.
"Yes. Mine."
Rowan took a step closer.
His voice turned calm… but colder.
"It's my kitchen."
Another step.
"My palace."
His gaze locked on hers.
"And you are my… maid, Aven."
The word hung heavily in the air.
For a moment, the room felt smaller.
Aven's expression hardened.