Chapter 43: Welcome Home, Honey (4.7k)
Kael opened the mansion door with a soft click. He had a key of his own—one matching Seraphina's. Stepping inside, he was greeted by the gentle silence of the place.
He walked into the kitchen, set the groceries down carefully, then made his way to the bath.
A short while later, he returned, dressed in a loose white shirt and matching trousers. His damp, messy brown hair clung to his forehead. With a long stretch and a quiet yawn, he stepped into the kitchen and rolled up his sleeves.
He began with the vegetables—peeling the potatoes first, then slicing the carrots into thin rounds. The onions and garlic came next, their sharp scent quickly filling the air as he chopped them finely. He tossed them into a large iron pot with a bit of oil, letting them sizzle until they turned golden.
Next came the boar meat. He cubed it carefully, then added it to the pot, browning the pieces until the rich, savory smell of cooked meat mixed with the sweetness of the onions. He poured in water, letting it simmer. A few bones with marrow followed, sinking into the bubbling liquid to deepen the flavor.
Kael stirred slowly, patiently. The fire crackled beneath the pot, casting a warm glow across the kitchen. As the stew thickened and the scent turned comforting, he glanced at the clock.
"It should be ready by the time she returns," he murmured to himself, placing a lid on the pot and leaning back against the counter, arms folded, eyes soft.
As expected, Kael heard the sound of the front door creaking open. His ears perked up at the familiar click of her boots against the marble floor. He didn't move at first, just leaned lazily against the armrest of the couch, eyes drifting toward the doorway.
She stepped in, silent as always.
Their eyes met for a brief moment.
She didn't greet him.
Instead, she shut the door behind her with quiet grace, turned away, and began walking toward the staircase.
"Welcome home, Honey," Kael said with a bright, teasing smile. His voice echoed a little too cheerfully in the large, cold room.
Seraphina didn't even flinch. "Tsk. Shut up. I don't want to hear your welcome," she muttered, her tone icy. She didn't even look back.
Kael tilted his head, watching her slender figure walk toward the stairs, her cloak trailing behind her. "Ouch. Straight to the heart, Captain."
She didn't dignify him with a response.
They lived in the same mansion, shared the same bed—but never the same warmth. Each had their own room, their own bathroom, and their own silence.
As she reached the base of the staircase, Kael's voice followed her again.
"Honey, should I come with you?" he asked with a cheeky grin, leaning over the back of the couch. "You know, keep you company on those lonely stairs?
She stopped mid-step. Her shoulders stiffened.
Her hand twitched.
"Shut up before I kill you," she snapped, still not turning.
Kael raised both hands in mock surrender. "Whoa, scary. But also... weirdly exciting?"
"Hey, loser."
"Yes, dear?"
"Die."
He laughed—deep, full, and entirely unbothered. "Harsh. You always say the sweetest things."
She resumed her climb, one step at a time, each footfall echoing through the quiet.
"But," he continued, draping himself theatrically over the back of the couch, "since I'm already dead to you, can I at least offer my ghostly services? You worked hard today. And since you're heading for a bath... maybe I could wash your back?"
Silence.
Kael waited.
A beat.
Then—
Her fist curled tight at her side, fingers whitening against the leather of her glove. The other hand hovered near the hilt of her sword, tense—but didn't draw. Her voice came low and strained. "Calm down, Seraphina. He's not worth it. Not today," she muttered, barely audible.
Kael pretended not to hear, though he noticed the tremble in her stance.
"Hey, I wasn't going to peek, okay? I swear. You know me—always the gentleman."
"Gentleman?" she scoffed under her breath. "You're a clown."
"A charming clown," he corrected, quick as ever. "And after all your glorious slashing and stabbing today—bravo, by the way—I just thought you could use a little help. You know, with your... fro—"
"You're going too far, idiot."
Her voice sliced the air—cold, immediate. This time, she turned just enough to cast a glare over her shoulder. The kind of look that could freeze a man mid-breath.
Kael paused, caught like prey under a predator's stare. Slowly, he raised both hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll just sit here. All alone. Cuddling the ghost of your affections."
She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "moron."
Kael grinned.
"Can't you shut that mouth of yours for one damn evening?" she snapped. "That would help me more than anything you ever do."
"No can do," he sighed, resting his chin dramatically on the couch cushion. "That's asking the impossible, darling."
"Then maybe I'll make the impossible possible. With my sword."
"I see we're flirting again."
"You see what you want to see."
"And you stab what you want to stab."
"Exactly."
A pause.
"And guess what? I made something special for you today. Something I've never made before."
"Not interested." Her voice was sharper than steel.
"Oof. That stung." Kael clutched his chest as if pierced. "After all the sweat and tears I poured into it… My heart, it breaks…!"
Seraphina didn't stop. Didn't turn.
Kael sighed, then smiled again, eyes narrowing playfully as they fell on the deep cloak draped over her waist.
"Though I must say… it's rare to see you in a tasset cloak. Didn't know you owned one."
She halted, turned her head slightly.
"It's not a tasset cloak, fool. It's my cloak. I just wrapped it around my waist"
Kael scratched the back of his neck. "Oh? My mistake. Just looked different today. Guess even your cloaks evolve with your mood. A half-burned, huh? Fiery fashion. So, why the shift? Shoulder to waist—is it a statement?"
Seraphina's voice was colder than ever. "Do I have to explain everything I wear to you now? Who do you think you are?"
Kael smirked, stepping back dramatically. "Your husband."
"Unfortunately."
He chuckled. "Ouch again. You're breaking records tonight, my queen."
"Shut up."
With that, she ascended the stairs, her footsteps echoing with grace and annoyance.
"Wait—hey! Don't you want to know what I made?"
No answer.
"I'm coming, honey... to wash your back."
Still nothing.
Kael called out, but she didn't reply again. He stood alone in the silence that followed. The grin slowly returned to his lips.
"She's not pissed," he muttered, rubbing his neck. "Damn... I was expecting more fire today. A slap, maybe a dagger to the wall. But she didn't even raise her voice like always…" His eyes narrowed faintly. "Did something happen?"
---
A Moment Later...
The smell of roasted herbs and grilled meat filled the dimly lit room, wrapping it in a warm, savory embrace. On the heavy wooden table, a steaming bowl of forest boar stew took center stage—thick, rich, and golden-brown, its surface swirling with a glimmer of cream and flecks of frost-salt that shimmered faintly in the firelight.
Carrots and potatoes peeked through the broth, softened to perfection, while tender chunks of meat glistened with juices, their edges caramelized just enough to hint at the sear from the iron pot. The marrow-rich broth clung to the sides of the bowl like velvet, releasing waves of warmth with every stir.
Beside it, slices of fire-charred black rye bread leaned in a stack, still warm, a rustic companion to the luxurious stew. A small sprig of duskroot sat atop the bowl, more for aesthetic than taste, its purple leaves adding a painter's flourish to the earthy palette.
Kael quietly placed the dish down with a craftsman's care, aligning each piece on the counter with deliberate precision. He took a step back, tilting his head slightly—like an artist examining the final stroke of paint on a canvas.
"Though she said she's not interested…" he murmured with a wry smirk, the corner of his lip twitching upward, "she'll come to eat anyway. What can I say? It's my cooking level, after all."
The fire crackled behind him, shadows dancing along the walls. All that remained was to wait.
But he didn't have to wait long.
Seraphina stepped in.
She was wrapped in a long, silver gown, the silk fabric glinting faintly in the low light. It flowed around her like water, covering her from shoulder to ankle—modest, elegant, perfect for sleep. The sleeves reached her wrists without a wrinkle, almost as if the gown was designed with the same precision she carried in everything she did. Her figure didn't reveal much—no curves, no softness. Just a cold silhouette of noble grace. Her silver hair is wet but perfect as always.
She paused at the end of the stairs, scanning the table, then exhaled, almost imperceptibly, before walking toward it.
"You said you're not interested in my special dish, yet here you are," Kael said from the couch, one leg lazily crossed over the other. He grinned. "Caught in the act, aren't you?"
Seraphina pulled out a chair without looking at him. "What choice do I have?" she replied flatly, sitting down. "I can't sleep on an empty stomach, can I?"
Kael chuckled under his breath. "No, of course not. As long as I'm here, I'll cook for you. You don't have to worry about dinners. If you ask nicely, I can even make you breakfast." He winked.
But inside, he was groaning. "No, I can't. She wakes up so early to train... There's no way I can wake up that early. I'm not suicidal."
"Do it then," she said, picking up her fork. "It'll save time. I'm also planning to wake you up from now on."
Kael blinked.
"I'm sorry—what?"
"You heard me."
"No, I mean—like—wake me up how? Loud clapping?"
Seraphina turned her head slightly, just enough to glance at him. Her expression was unreadable. Neutral. Cold.
"I've decided. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to train you."
Kael opened his mouth.
She continued before he could speak. "Sword. Magic. Defense. Everything I know. You'll learn from me."
"...Oh."
She smiled.
But it wasn't warm.
It wasn't kind.
It wasn't even a real smile—it was like someone had carved the shape onto her face without telling her what it meant.
Kael's grin faltered.
Just a second. Then he slapped it back on like a mask. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay. Hold up. Let's slow down, Captain. That's cute and all, but I don't need training. I mean, sure, maybe a little stretching, but nothing sword-related. Definitely nothing death-by-fireball."
"This is not good. This is so not good... I mean, being trained by her would help. My sword techniques are full of flaws. And she's... terrifyingly good. Not just good—she's one of the best swordsmen. I could learn a lot. But her training means death. Literal death. And I don't want to die via push-ups. So, sorry, honey. Not gonna happen."
"I've been hearing those same excuses for the last three years," she said, chewing mechanically. "This time is different. I'm not asking you. I'm telling you."
Her fork hit the plate with a light clink.
Kael raised his eyebrows. "That sounds... aggressive. Bit controlling. And just for the record, I value my limbs. I'd like to keep them attached."
"I'm not concerned with your preferences."
Kael exhaled heavily, dragging a hand down his face as if he were being sentenced to execution. "Let's be reasonable here, darling. I don't even know how to properly hold a sword, let alone use magic. There's no way you can keep up with both your training and mine at the same time. Right?"
"I can," she said without hesitation. "Don't worry about me."
Kael leaned further over the counter.
"No, you absolutely can't."
"Yes, I can."
"But why? Why now? What's changed? You've spent years avoiding me like I'm some annoying side character."
"Because I realized something," she said, her voice low but firm. "You have potential."
Kael looked at her like she'd just declared the moon was made of cheese.
"...I'm sorry. What?"
"I've seen it in you—you have the potential to become strong. Stronger than you believe. Maybe even stronger than me."
He laughed. Actually laughed. It was short and sharp, more disbelief than joy.
"You must be feeling sleepy from exhaustion."
"I'm serious."
"I don't want to die, Honey."
"You won't."
"That's not reassuring coming from the woman who once broke someone's rib by correcting their stance."
Seraphina didn't react. Her eyes were locked onto him now. Unblinking. Calm. "I've made my decision. I'm done waiting for you to take things seriously. So, whether you like it or not... starting tomorrow, you're mine."
Kael stared at her. Then muttered, "That sounded way too possessive."
"Then stop making it sound like a joke."
Kael glanced toward her again. Seraphina. Still unmoving. Still distant. Her blue eyes focused on nothing, as though the whole world was beneath her notice.
"Doesn't look like I can win against her," he thought. "But… what I'm worried about now is how she's going to wake me up tomorrow. There's no way I'm getting up that early. Nope. Never."
He sighed and picked up the two freshly prepared bowls from the counter, carefully balancing them in his hands.
"Why am I even doing this? She probably won't even say thank you... Still," he walked over to her and gently placed one of the bowls in front of her.
She didn't look at him. Not at first. Her eyes were distant, gazing somewhere beyond the room, lost in thoughts that didn't include him. But as he leaned forward, setting the plate down, something subtle and unexpected brushed against his senses.
A scent.
His breath caught.
It wasn't strong—no, it was delicate, elusive, like the whisper of wind over still water. A cool, floral fragrance that felt almost ethereal. It reminded him of moonflowers blooming under starlight, or perhaps the dew-kissed petals of a silverbloom, a rare flower said to only grow near ancient waterfalls blessed by spirits.
There was a crispness to it too, like morning frost on cobalt leaves. Bluebells and something softer… maybe frost-lilies? He didn't know. He couldn't place it, but it wrapped around him like a quiet song.
He blinked.
"Wait… why does she smell so… nice today?" he thought, stunned. "Did she change something? Shampoo? Perfume?"
But no… this wasn't forged. It didn't feel like anything made by hands. It was pure, natural… magical. Like her presence was surrounded by a shimmering aura of blue and silver light, and now, for the first time, he had stepped close enough to feel it.
His chest tightened.
The warmth in his fingertips lingered where they had held the bowl. His heartbeat slowed, almost reverently, as if afraid to disturb the moment.
"...Why the hell am I thinking about this?"
Still, he couldn't stop. That scent… it was addictive. Calming, and yet strangely exciting.
"Though… she smells so nice."
And for a brief second, as he turned away, he wondered—was this always there… or had he simply never been close enough to notice?
He shook his head and took the seat across from her, trying not to make a big deal out of it—but still, he peeked at her from under his lashes.
Seraphina blinked once, slowly, and finally looked at the food.
No comment.
She picked up her spoon and began eating. No compliments. No complaints. Just a silent, cold motion. But then… something flickered across her face. The tiniest twitch of her brows. Her lips hesitated a little longer than necessary.
"What's this? Surprise? Don't tell me she's actually… enjoying it?"
She took another bite. Her expression didn't change much—but Kael saw it. The smallest, subtlest shift. Like something inside her softened for just a second.
He smirked.
"So? How is it, honey?" he asked, leaning forward theatrically as he began eating.
There was a pause. Then she answered flatly, "Not bad."
He raised an eyebrow. "Liar."
"I said it's not bad. That means exactly what I said. Not good. Not bad."
"Yeah, yeah." He waved her off, still grinning. "By the way, I forgot to mention. I earned 1500 coins today."
She didn't react.
"I spent 200, so I've got 1300 left. See?" He tapped the couch beside him dramatically. "Ta-da~ 1300 coins. Yours if you want it."
Still nothing.
She kept eating. Calm. Distant.
"Of course, she won't respond. But she'll take it later," he thought. "Not like I mind."
He watched her for another moment. "She's acting weird today… unusually quiet. I thought she'd blow up at me for being with the lieutenant. So… she didn't see us together back then?"
He cleared his throat and leaned back a little.
"Sweetheart," he began, slowly. "You know… today a girl invited me to coffee."
She didn't flinch.
"You mean Arwyn," she said without looking up.
His eyes widened. "Yes! Wait—how did you know, honey?"
"I saw you two together in a coffee house," she replied.
He blinked. "You… did? But why aren't you angry?"
She finally turned to him, eyes calm but unreadable. "Why would I be angry? It's Arwyn we're talking about."
He tilted his head. "That bad, huh?"
"She has a habit of chasing after weak men. Commoners. She changes boyfriends like clothes. Stay away from her. If you get involved, don't expect me to help you."
He paused.
"Wait… what? She's warning me? Did she just lie about Arwyn?"
He stared at her, lips parting. "Oh. I didn't know she was like that. Maybe you're right. She did ask me to become her boyfriend."
Seraphina's hand froze mid-air. Her spoon hovered above her bowl.
"…What?" she said, blinking once.
He nodded, trying to sound casual. "Yeah. Honestly, I thought she was a bit of a psycho."
"She definitely is," Seraphina said, almost too quickly.
"Right?" he replied, grinning.
They finished eating in silence after that. Kael stood and picked up both bowls. He didn't expect her to thank him. She never did.
She sat still, watching him disappear into the kitchen. He started washing the bowls, humming faintly.
Behind him, her lips moved, almost too softly to hear.
"…Thank you, loser."
"I don't know what's going on with me," she thought. "But somehow… you quieted the storm in my head. Just for a little while."
Kael turned to look at her.
She was smiling.
He blinked. "She's… smiling? That's rare."
"Tea?" he asked, raising his voice slightly. "Want me to make some, honey?"
"No." She stood up quickly, brushing past him. "I'll make it. Just sit."
He watched her walk to the counter. Her movements were graceful but stiff, like she was unsure what she was doing.
She picked up the teapot.
Kael leaned against the wall, watching her carefully.
"You know," she said suddenly without looking back, "Arwyn wasn't the first girl who tried something like that with you."
"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow. "Are you… keeping track, Honey?"
"No," she said quickly. "I just know. You're… predictable."
"Ouch." He clutched his chest. "Your words cut me like knives, Darling. Truly."
She glanced back at him, unfazed. "That's because you're weak."
He grinned. "Yet here I am, still managing to cook for a cold-hearted noble like you."
She turned around fully now, teacups in hand. Her voice lowered slightly.
"You're not as weak as you act."
He blinked. "What?"
"You put your heart into things. You pretend you're foolish, lazy, but… there's effort in what you do. You're not completely useless."
Kael stood there, blinking. "What the hell? Did she just… compliment me? How did that happen—and why? Did she lose her memories or something? She's the one who always says I'm useless." He narrowed his eyes slightly, suspicion creeping in. "Did she get hit on the head? Maybe something's wrong with her. Yeah… I should check on her tonight—just in case."
She set the teacups down between them and crossed her arms.
"…But that doesn't mean I like you," she added coldly.
He smirked. "Of course not. You hate me, remember?"
"Exactly," she said.
He reached for the tea. "Then I guess I'll have to keep working hard… just to make you hate me a little less every day."
"Tch." She looked away. "Don't be ridiculous."
He took a sip. "Too late. I was born ridiculous."
After that, Kael finished his tea in silence beside her. Neither of them spoke. For several long seconds, the quiet stretched between them—calm, yet oddly heavy.
Then Kael gently placed the cup down on the counter, the soft clink echoing slightly in the quiet room. He glanced at her, eyes lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
"So…" he began, drawing out the word as he pushed himself of the wall, "do you have anything else planned tonight? Like reading, maybe? A two-hour speech on sword maintenance?" His voice carried that familiar teasing lilt.
Seraphina didn't even look at him. She sipped her tea, calm and poised as ever, then set the cup down with a practiced elegance.
"No," she said simply. "Not tonight." She rose from her chair, graceful as always, her posture perfect. "Let's go—to bed. I'm feeling tired."
Kael blinked. Then raised a brow.
"To bed?" he repeated with mock surprise, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Together? At the same time? What a scandal."
Seraphina finally turned her head, just slightly, just enough to give him a withering look over her shoulder. "Don't flatter yourself. You're still just occupying space, not sharing it."
He chuckled, standing and stretching as she began walking toward the hallway. "Ouch. Cold as ever, Captain."
She didn't respond.
As Kael followed behind, he muttered under his breath, "Did she really say that? Or am I dreaming?" He shook his head, a tired smile on his lips as he reached their room.
---
The door creaked open and he entered, flopping onto his side of the bed with a dramatic sigh. He lay back, arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling like it held the answers to life.
Seraphina entered a few moments later, moving with slow precision. She closed the door softly and walked to her side of the bed, sitting down before slipping beneath the covers like a queen taking her throne—cold, dignified, distant.
She lay on her side, facing away from him, eyes fixed on the wall, and pulled the blanket over herself with deliberate force.
Kael exhaled loudly. "You know, sometimes I think you love that wall more than me."
Silence.
Then, quietly, he said, "Thank you."
There was a pause. "For what?"
"For saving my friends."
"I was doing my duty," she replied without emotion. "They are citizens. It's my responsibility to protect them."
"I know. Still… I just wanted to say it."
A beat passed. Then Kael turned slightly toward her. "Can I ask you something?"
"Is it another pointless question?"
"That depends. Why were you at the dungeon entrance? Shouldn't you have been in your office, buried in reports and paperwork? Or… did you go there for me?"
Her tone turned sharp. "Absolutely not for you. The guildmaster reported strange movements near the dungeon. I went to investigate. Simple as that."
Kael smirked to himself. "Hmm. Convenient timing though."
She didn't respond.
"Really though," he continued, undeterred, "maybe some part of you worried about me? Just a little? Deep down in that frozen heart of yours?"
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "You're an annoyance. If you had died, it would've just saved me the trouble."
"Ouch." He let out a low chuckle. "So cold, honey. You'd be a great ice mage."
"I'm a knight captain, not some melodramatic fool who thinks everything is about him. And I don't know about ice magic—but I can definitely give you a thunder shock."
Kael turned onto his back again. "You wound me."
She didn't answer. Just silence.
Eventually, she said softly, "Go to sleep. You have to wake up early tomorrow."
He gave a lazy hum. "Okay. Goodnight, honey."
She scoffed.
But as he closed his eyes, his smile faded just slightly. "I'm not going to wake up though," he thought silently, before drifting off.
Seraphina stared at the wall, listening to his breathing steady. Her fingers curled lightly in the sheets. She didn't know why—but something about his words lingered.
---
Next morning…
The room still lingered in darkness. Outside, a pale light had begun to break the night—soft, uncertain, like the sky was debating whether to wake up or not. The horizon wore the faint blush of sunrise, but inside, time stood still.
Kael lay on his side, completely entangled in his blanket like a lazy caterpillar refusing to become a butterfly. A quiet breath escaped him. Still as a rock. A rock that drooled slightly.
Seraphina opened her eyes.
She didn't blink.
Her gaze fixed blankly on the wall ahead, sharp like the edge of a blade. Then, with mechanical grace, she sat up—back straight, chin high. Her hands rested on the blanket like royalty commanding the battlefield.
She turned, finally, toward Kael.
Still asleep. Deep sleep. The type reserved for the dead or the dramatically lazy.
"Wake up," she said quietly. Not asking. Declaring.
No response.
"Wake up, loser." she repeated, with the exact same tone, as if she were reciting a law.
Silence.
She narrowed her eyes, thinking, I expected this. He's truly the embodiment of sloth.
Seraphina reached out—her long hand, mostly hidden beneath the flowing sleeve of her gown, drifted through the air, elegant and precise, toward his shoulder. Just as it was about to make contact, she froze. Inches away.
"I've never touched him before. Should I…? No."
She retracted her hand with the speed of a snake strike, almost offended by her own hesitation.
With a cold huff, she stood and glided out of the room to freshen up.
When she returned, she found him in the exact same position. Possibly snoring louder.
"Wake up," she said again. "You have to train with me. If you don't, I'll throw water at you."
Nothing.
Her jaw tightened. Her hands clenched. "How lazy can one person be…?"
She approached again, her footsteps as soft and threatening as falling snow.
"I'll give you one last chance," she said. "Wake up, loser. Or I'll throw water for real."
A muffled voice emerged from beneath the pillow, "Shut up, bitch. You're destroying my heaven…"
A beat of silence.
Seraphina blinked.
"Did he… just?"
A vein twitched on her forehead. Her lips pursed.
Her blue eyes began to glow—no, glint—with a glacial shimmer, the kind that came right before an avalanche buried a kingdom.
Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head toward the small table.
A plastic water bottle sat there, innocent and full.
She picked it up like it weighed the world. Uncapped it.
Kael let out a faint snore, oblivious to his impending doom.
She walked forward. Calm. Unforgiving.
He didn't flinch.
She stood over him. Raised the bottle with ceremony. Like a royal executioner about to drop the blade.
And then—
Splash.
Water rained down onto his face in a glorious cascade.
"Aaah! WHAT—Why is it raining indoors?!" Kael exploded, flailing upright like a fish yanked from a bucket. He slapped at his pillow, his soaked brown hair sticking to his cheeks.
Blinking in a daze, he turned—
And froze.
Seraphina stood there. Eyes narrowed. Royal. Furious. Beautifully terrifying.
Kael's throat clicked as he swallowed.
"…Honey," he croaked, voice cracking with hope and fear.
"What," she said, her voice colder than the water, "did you just call me?"
"I didn't say anything," Kael said quickly, blinking hard. "I was dreaming! I was… probably sleep-talking!"
She raised one brow.
He winced. "Sorry?"
Still, she said nothing. Then…
She sighed. Long and slow. "If you're sorry, fine. But if you don't get up now, I will kill you for real."
She turned and walked toward the door with noble grace. "Be fresh by the time I finish my strength training."
The door shut behind her with a quiet click.
"…Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.
He stared at the ceiling. Water dripped from his hair into his ears. He glanced at the pillow, then groaned. Flopping back with the full weight of his soggy misery, he landed with a wet squelch.
"…My kingdom has fallen." he whispered.
---
(Chapter Ended)
To be continued...