Dinner had been a masterpiece.
Mika had insisted on cooking himself, shooing Korra out of the kitchen with a teasing grin every time she tried to help, which was often, because the idea of Mika laboring over a stove in her palace made her itch with a specific, warm kind of guilt.
Maria had watched him cook with a knowing gaze. The sisters had watched him cook with barely concealed adoration. And Korra had watched him cook the way a plant watches the sun.
Finally, he made something extraordinary: a roast seasoned with spices from three realms, glazed vegetables, a sauce that made Nuri actually eat her greens without being bribed, and a dessert that had reduced the entire table to reverent silence.
When it was finally time to leave, the farewell had been...prolonged.
"I don't see why you have to go!" Nuri whined, clinging to Mika's arm with all her tiny might. "The guest rooms are really nice! And I have a new board game! And Maria could stay too! Please, Mika, please—"
