Kael grinned, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "Well, I support the cause. But if you keep feeding us shoe-leather stew, the revolution's gonna be short-lived."
Liss narrowed her eyes, her smirk sharp. "You want to eat or get punched?"
"I'd like to survive breakfast, if that's still on the menu," Kael said, his hazel eyes sparkling.
They both chuckled, the sound warm, easing the tension, the kitchen's hum a soft backdrop. Kael's gaze softened, his voice gentle. "Look, Freya can still cook. But if you want to learn, stand next to her. Watch her. She's scary good at it. You'll pick it up in no time."
Liss sighed, reluctant, her blue eyes flickering, her bun swaying as she leaned against the counter. "Fine. But only if she lets me cook beside her. I'm not just gonna sit and take notes like some apprentice."
"Deal," Kael said, his grin widening, his hazel eyes warm.
