Chapter 90

Theodore

I blinked, caught between skepticism and an overwhelming warmth at the gesture. “You’re cooking for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she teased, opening another jar. “I can be domestic when it suits me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “My mouth is already watering in anticipation…"

“You’ll love it,” she promised, setting something on the table. "Now help me finish unpacking."

We worked quietly. I didn't recognize almost anything in the boxes, but I was excited.

We headed to bed soon after and before I realized it, I was fast asleep.

It was the smell that woke me. I sat up, feeling the way her side of the bed had cooled, then I was up and out of bed, rushing down stairs. The scent got stronger the moment I stepped into the hall. Warm, savory, and rich, it carried a complexity that teased at my senses—earthy herbs, seared spices, something faintly sweet. I followed it to the kitchen like a moth drawn to flame, barely noticing the sunlight pouring through the windows.

Violet was at the stove, her hair loosely tied back, humming to herself as she worked. A spread of ingredients covered the counter: jars of oils and powders, fresh vegetables, and cuts of meat that had been cut up. She didn’t glance up when I entered, but she smiled, wiggling her fingers as she peeled something in her hand. It could have been an onion, but it didn't look like any onion I'd ever seen.

"So… food will wake you when nothing else will. I'll keep that in mind."

I chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “It smells incredible. I thought you'd let me watch."

She chuckled. "I haven't started. You still can."

Her eyes twinkled, but I found a spot to sit at the bar and watched.

“What are you making?”"

“A little bit of everything,” she said with a sly smile, nodding her head towards the stove. The flame leapt to life in the eye of it. My heart was in my throat. Desire stirred in me at the careless show of power.

"What… I thought you said…"

She chuckled. "Using a magical stove is more skill than power."

The pot that was on the eye, started to boil moments later.

"And they're old family recipes, adjusted for you.” She tossed the onion-like thing into the pot as it came to a bubble.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning closer, trying to see into the pot. “Me?”

She glanced at me over her shoulder, her gaze warm but focused. “You've gone a long time without eating properly… I got some help designing some recipes that will help correct that… especially with the tea party coming up."

I crossed my arms, watching her work. “I’m not exactly falling apart, Violet, but you make it sound rather serious. You playing doctor, too?”

She snorted. “You'd like that far too much. Absolutely not.” She stirred the pot. “And it is serious, but I can only imagine you're not in danger because you don't have to use your magic often. Still, as you get older, you'll bee running on borrowed time if you keep ignoring what your body needs. Magic burns through energy faster than you realize. Food of this country is…let’s call it uninspired.”

I wrinkled my nose. I couldn’t argue with that. I'd never liked the country's cuisine much, but it was all I'd ever had.

"I actually don't want you to taste proper magical food for the first time at the tea party, dear."

I could have melted in place at the way the word fell from her lips, tender and sweet, tugging at my heart. A warm flush crept up my neck, and I tried to play it off by looking out the window stepping closer to the counter. The idea of her cooking for me stirred something deep inside—not just gratitude, but something heavier, sharper. It was such an act of care, trust, and intimacy on both sides of the border.

My chest tightened as memories clawed their way to the surface. My father’s booming voice, demanding that my mother cook for him. Her defiance, standing tall despite the bruises already darkening her arms. The pot of boiling water she’d thrown at him when he tried to force her. The beating that followed. And then the silence of her absence, cold and heavy, when he locked her away echoed through me.

"I'll eat anything you put in front of me."

"Hopefully not." She scoffed and gestured at me with a spoon, sprinkling a pinch of something fragrant into the pot. "We'll work on your ability to perform magic slyly, too."

I blinked. "Why?"

"Poison."

I winced. Between running Midnight and the constant political games, I hadn’t given much thought to my meals, and since I didn't tend to eat anywhere else, I hadn't thought about it much. Was this something that Violet worried about frequently? I guessed so with all of her social outings to all sorts of different territories.

Despite the prick of worry, the thought of her… teaching me something because she thought it was something that I should know, something she wanted to share with me, something that would draw me closer to her made me smile.

"Will you tell me… why?"

Violet's lips twitched. "You're a Noble Consort now and you have your fair share of enemies beyond the ones you will inherit simply because you married me. It wouldn't be good for you to kill over at an event, now would it?"

"Is that a worry at a noble event?"

"Not at the Tea Party, per se, but elsewhere. It will be good practice."

"How'd Lucas manage?"

She chuckled. "He never came."

I blinked. "What?"

She lifted a shoulder. "He… had an issue with me teaching him things… not just about combat."

I blinked. "… does it make you happy to teach me?"

She looked over her shoulder at me, as if she were caught off guard by the question. Then, she smiled.

"Yes."

"Do I get gold stars for excelling?"

She laughed. "I feel like kisses would be more up your alley."

I grinned. "They absolutely are."

She blew me a kiss and turned back before tossing the pile of vegetables in the boiling pot. She put the chopped meat in the skillet trhat bubbled filled with sauce. It hissed and steam rose. She hummed a song I felt like I'd heard before, but didn’t know the words to. Listening to her made my whole body realx. Soon enough she was filling a bowl and piling meat on a plate.

Still, the idea of her planning something so deliberately for me felt... strange.

She slid them both across the counter toward me.

“Taste,” she beamed. "There's more, and it's best hot."

I grabbed a fork and took a bite, not even caring what it would taste like. The flavors exploded—rich, savory, with just enough heat to keep things interesting, but that was nothing compared to the rush of liquid pleasure, heat, and power that rushed through me.

I shuddered and groaned, cocking my eyebrow at her. "What the hell…"

"That's magic," She said beaming at me and serving a bowl of grain to go with the rest of it. "How is it?"

“I can't eat this in public, Violet."

She laughed. "It won't be so overwhelming in time. Eat up. There's plenty."

As she turned back to the stove, I found myself studying her—how natural she looked in this moment, completely at ease, and I ate trying to keep myself from getting up and pushing her up against the counter to sate a different kind of hunger.

"You're fucking amazing." She flushed and smiled at me shyly. I bit my lip. "Compliments… got it."

She wrinkled her nose. "Hush up."

She came to sit with me with her own collection dishes.

“What’s the plan for today?”

Violet glanced at me, her lips quirking into a small smile. “We’ll have breakfast, and then we need to go over the details for the tea party.”

“Tea party politics,” I muttered, half to myself. “I’ll admit, that’s a new one for me.”

“Oh, I'm sure it will be. Just don't expect cucumber sandwiches." She laughed. "Can't make alliances or get ready for battle with nothing in your stomach."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “Battle?”

She reached for something on the counter—a delicate envelope sealed with wax—and slid it across to me. “The formal invitation. Read it.”

I picked it up and carefully broke the seal, pulling out the card inside. The script was elegant, the words flowing together in a way that felt both inviting and intimidating.

“You are cordially invited…” I started, squinting at the rest. “Wait, what the hell is ‘noble tea etiquette’ supposed to mean?”

Violet laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “It means there’s a whole list of unspoken rules you’re supposed to follow. Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.”

“Good,” I said, setting the card down. “Because I don’t even know where to start. Do I drink the tea? Not drink it? Use the wrong spoon and declare war on someone’s family?”

She smirked. "It's always the left one."

My eyes bulged and she burst into laughter.

"Please tell me you're joking." She shrugged. I glowered at her and went back to reading. "What happens after the party?"

“… we’ll go to Darkmoon.”