Chapter Thirteen
Aiden woke to a strange smell.
Not coffee.
Not toast.
Definitely not anything that was supposed to come from a kitchen.
His eyes snapped open.
For a second, he lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to place it. Then his brain caught up.
Something was burning.
He threw off the blanket and hurried out of his room, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.
The kitchen looked like it had survived a small battle.
There were vegetables scattered across the counter, a knife lying beside a chopping board, and a frying pan sitting on the stove with a thin trail of smoke curling into the air.
Standing in the middle of it all was Kael.
He was dressed in one of the new outfits they'd bought the day before—a fitted dark shirt and black trousers that somehow looked more expensive on him than they had on the mannequin. His long hair was tied back loosely, and he wore the calm expression of someone who believed everything was going exactly as planned.
He looked over when he heard Aiden.
"You're awake."
Aiden stared at the pan.
"...Am I too late to ask what happened?"
Kael glanced at it as well.
"I attempted to prepare breakfast."
"You cook?"
"I intended to."
There was a beat of silence.
"So... this wasn't supposed to happen?"
"No."
Aiden stepped over and turned off the burner before peeking into the pan. Whatever had been inside was beyond saving.
He looked back at Kael.
"Why didn't you just wake me?"
"You were sleeping."
"Yes."
"So I let you sleep."
"And decided to feed yourself instead?"
Kael nodded once.
"You've mentioned several times that humans require regular meals. I found myself hungry and concluded that waiting was inefficient."
Despite himself, Aiden laughed.
"That's actually very reasonable."
"I thought so."
"The execution could use some work."
Kael looked genuinely thoughtful.
"I've come to the same conclusion."
Aiden opened a cupboard to look for another pan.
"Next time, just wake me. I don't mind."
"I mind."
That caught Aiden off guard.
Kael's expression stayed neutral as he added, "You looked exhausted. It seemed unnecessary."
Before Aiden could respond, someone knocked on the front door.
Three steady raps echoed through the house.
"I'll get it," Aiden said.
He opened the door to find Mr. Wilkins from the hardware store standing on the porch with a basket covered by a checkered cloth.
"Morning!" the older man greeted cheerfully. "My wife made too many biscuits and insisted I bring some over. Figured I'd finally welcome the new folks properly."
"That's really nice of you," Aiden said, smiling.
Just then, Kael wandered into the hallway behind him.
"I believe my breakfast has failed," he announced. "Would these biscuits be available for immediate consumption?"
Mr. Wilkins looked from Kael to Aiden and back again.
Then a grin slowly spread across his face.
"Well," he chuckled, handing over the basket, "sounds like I came at the perfect time."
Kael accepted it with a polite nod.
"You have my thanks."
"No trouble at all."
Mr. Wilkins lingered for another moment before asking, "You two settling in alright?"
"We're managing," Aiden answered.
Kael glanced toward the kitchen.
"With mixed results."
The older man laughed, clearly amused.
"I won't keep you then. Enjoy the biscuits."
As he walked back down the porch steps, he looked over his shoulder with another friendly smile.
"Good to see you've got company out here, Aiden. Makes an old house feel a little less lonely."
After he drove away, Aiden closed the door and looked at Kael.
"You know, that could've gone much worse."
Kael lifted the cloth covering the basket and studied the biscuits inside.
"It also could have gone better."
Aiden raised an eyebrow.
"How so?"
"I am still hungry."
The kitchen settled into a comfortable kind of chaos after Mr. Wilkins left.
Aiden rolled up his sleeves and pulled ingredients out of the refrigerator while Kael claimed a spot at the counter with the basket of biscuits.
By the time Aiden cracked the second egg into a bowl, Kael had already eaten three.
"You know those were supposed to last a few days."
Kael looked mildly puzzled. "Then why are they so small?"
Aiden snorted. "Fair point."
He reached for the carton of milk, only to find Kael standing exactly where he needed to be.
"Can you move a little?"
Kael stepped to the side.
Directly into Aiden's path again.
"The other way."
Without a word, Kael shifted once more.
Still wrong.
Aiden laughed despite himself. "You really have no experience sharing a kitchen with someone, do you?"
"I've never needed to."
"Because you had cooks?"
"And servants."
"Right."
Kael didn't sound embarrassed. If anything, he seemed genuinely confused as to why anyone would expect a prince to prepare his own meals.
Trying to make use of the situation, Aiden handed him a tomato.
"Can you wash this for me?"
Kael accepted it with surprising seriousness, carrying it to the sink as though entrusted with a sacred object. He held it under running water for several seconds, turned it over, frowned at a tiny blemish, then rinsed it again.
Finally, he returned and presented it with both hands.
"It has been cleansed."
Aiden took it, smiling.
"Thanks."
Kael looked faintly pleased.
Encouraged, Aiden pointed toward the herbs.
"I'll chop these. You can put them in the bowl."
Kael nodded.
A moment later, Aiden heard a soft plop.
Then another.
He turned to discover Kael had dropped the entire bunch into the bowl without chopping anything.
"I meant after I cut them."
"I assumed you wished to preserve their natural form."
Aiden covered his mouth to hide another laugh.
"You're making this very difficult."
"I am helping."
"You absolutely believe that."
"I do."
There wasn't an ounce of irony in his voice.
The sincerity of it made Aiden's amusement soften into something warmer.
As breakfast slowly came together, Kael drifted closer, watching every movement with open curiosity.
"What does that do?"
"It keeps the eggs from sticking."
"And that?"
"Pepper."
"And this?"
"A spatula."
"You own many oddly shaped tools."
"So do you, apparently."
Kael glanced at him.
"My weapons are more elegant."
They stood shoulder to shoulder over the stove, close enough that Aiden could feel the warmth radiating from Kael's body. Every now and then, Kael would lean in to get a better look at something in the pan, and his sleeve would brush against Aiden's arm.
The contact was brief.
Harmless.
For some reason, Aiden noticed every single time.
He told himself it was because Kael was unlike anyone he'd ever met.
That had to be it.
Not the long black hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck.
Not the calm confidence with which he occupied every room.
Certainly not the way sunlight slipping through the window caught in his golden eyes whenever he turned his head.
Aiden reached for the salt.
His fingers closed around someone else's hand.
He looked down.
Kael had reached for it at exactly the same moment.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Then Kael quietly withdrew his hand.
"My mistake."
"It's fine," Aiden said a little too quickly.
He added the salt to the pan with far more concentration than necessary.
An odd silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just... different.
Kael broke it first.
"You smile often when you cook."
Aiden glanced up.
"I do?"
"You seem lighter."
Aiden thought about it.
"I guess cooking relaxes me."
Kael considered that before saying, "I think writing does the same."
Aiden laughed softly.
"You've only watched me for a few days."
"I've watched enough."
The words were simple, but they landed somewhere unexpectedly deep.
Aiden busied himself with plating the food, hoping Kael wouldn't notice the warmth creeping into his face.
Behind him, the prince reached into the basket for another biscuit.
Without looking back, Aiden said, "Leave some for later."
A small pause.
Then the unmistakable crunch of another bite.
Aiden turned.
Kael was already chewing, completely unapologetic.
"I considered your request," he said after swallowing.
"And?"
"I disagreed."
For a second, Aiden simply stared at him.
Then he laughed so hard he had to lean against the counter.
Kael watched him with quiet curiosity, the corner of his own mouth lifting almost imperceptibly.
The breakfast might not have been perfect, and the kitchen was still a mess, but for the first time since moving into the lonely old house, Aiden realized it no longer felt empty.
Somehow, without either of them meaning for it to happen, it was beginning to feel like home.