Aiden had never been good at sitting still.
Especially when there was work to be done.
That had become painfully obvious during breakfast.
He had barely finished eating when he noticed two servants struggling with a large wooden basket filled with freshly washed linens.
One servant had both arms wrapped around it.
The other was trying to pull it from the opposite side.
Neither looked particularly pleased.
Aiden watched them for a few seconds.
Then he stood.
He walked over.
"Give it to me."
Both servants froze.
The younger one blinked.
"My lord?"
Aiden reached for the basket.
"I said give it to me."
"We can carry it."
"I can see that."
He took the basket anyway.
The weight barely bothered him.
The servants stared.
Aiden looked between them.
"What?"
"You're carrying it."
"Yes."
"But…"
The servant seemed unsure how to continue.
Aiden frowned.
"But what?"
"You are an offering."
Aiden's expression immediately flattened.
"And?"
The servant opened their mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"I thought you weren't supposed to work."
"Who said that?"
"The temple rules."
Aiden rolled his eyes.
"Ronan said I'm not allowed to leave the temple without permission. He never said I'm not allowed to carry laundry."
The two servants exchanged a glance.
Aiden adjusted the basket against his hip.
"Well?"
They continued staring.
Aiden sighed.
"What? I have hands."
The younger servant finally smiled.
"Yes, my lord."
"Good."
Aiden walked away with the basket.
He didn't notice the figure standing at the end of the corridor.
Theron did.
The Moon God stood quietly beneath the stone archway, watching Aiden carry the basket as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
He hadn't been looking for Aiden.
He had simply been passing through.
Yet somehow, his attention had stopped the moment he saw him.
Aiden disappeared around the corner.
Theron's gaze remained there.
Ronan, standing several steps behind him, noticed.
"You're watching him again."
Theron didn't look back.
"Yes."
Ronan raised an eyebrow.
"At least you're honest."
Theron ignored him.
Instead, he followed the sound of footsteps.
He found Aiden in the laundry room.
The servants had already started sorting the linens.
Aiden placed the basket down.
Then he immediately began helping.
He folded one of the larger pieces.
The servant beside him stared.
"You don't have to do that."
"I know."
Aiden folded another.
"Then why are you?"
Aiden shrugged.
"Because it needs doing."
The servant looked confused.
Aiden looked back.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Aiden continued folding.
He was surprisingly fast.
The servant watched his hands.
"You've done this before."
"Yes."
"Where?"
Aiden paused.
His fingers stopped moving.
For a brief moment, his mind filled with memories.
A small den.
Warm blankets.
Tiny clothes.
Kael's clothes always ending up in the wrong pile because he refused to stay still.
Ryn's clothes somehow always covered in dirt.
Lior's blankets smelling faintly of the flowers Aiden used to keep near their sleeping area.
Aiden swallowed.
"Home."
The servant smiled.
"I suppose everyone learns these things at home."
Aiden looked down.
"Yeah."
He folded the next piece.
This time, he was quieter.
A few minutes later, the laundry was finished.
Aiden left before anyone could thank him.
He wandered toward the kitchens.
That turned out to be another mistake.
Or perhaps another opportunity.
The kitchen was busy.
Servants moved between tables carrying bowls and baskets.
Someone was cutting vegetables.
Someone else was preparing bread.
A large pot simmered over the fire.
Aiden stood in the doorway.
He watched for several seconds.
Then he walked inside.
One of the cooks noticed him.
"My lord?"
Aiden pointed toward a basket.
"What are those?"
"Potatoes."
"You're cutting them too thick."
The cook looked down.
Aiden picked one up.
"If you're putting them into the stew, they'll take longer to cook."
The cook blinked.
"I…"
Aiden took the knife.
He demonstrated.
Thin slices.
Quick.
Even.
Then he handed the knife back.
"Like that."
The cook stared at the potatoes.
Then at Aiden.
"Where did you learn to cook?"
Aiden shrugged.
"Experience."
Again.
That answer.
The cook smiled.
"Would you like to help?"
Aiden nodded.
"Yes."
He immediately started working.
He chopped vegetables.
He stirred the stew.
He tasted the broth and added a little salt.
He moved around the kitchen with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times.
He even caught one servant before they dropped a bowl.
"Careful."
The servant stared at him.
Aiden placed the bowl safely on the table.
"There."
"Thank you."
Aiden nodded.
Then he returned to the stew.
He didn't notice Theron standing outside the kitchen.
Again.
Theron watched.
He had seen offerings before.
They were usually careful.
Quiet.
Obedient.
They waited for servants to bring them food.
They waited to be told where to sit.
They waited to be told where to go.
Aiden did none of those things.
He simply—
helped.
Theron's gaze followed him as Aiden leaned over the pot.
He looked comfortable.
Not because he was being treated well.
Not because he had accepted his position.
But because he was doing something familiar.
Something useful.
Something that reminded him of home.
Theron wondered what that home looked like.
Who had taught Aiden to cook?
Who had taught him to fight?
Who had taught him to care for others?
And why did Aiden seem so determined to make himself useful everywhere he went?
Theron's thoughts were interrupted when Aiden suddenly looked toward the doorway.
Their eyes met.
Aiden blinked.
"How long have you been standing there?"
Theron didn't answer immediately.
"Long enough."
Aiden sighed.
"Do you have a habit of watching people?"
"Perhaps."
"That's creepy."
One of the cooks immediately looked horrified.
Aiden noticed.
He almost laughed.
Theron simply tilted his head.
"You don't seem to mind."
"I mind when it's you."
"Why?"
"Because you're always staring."
Theron considered that.
"I find you interesting."
Aiden stared at him.
"I'm chopping vegetables."
"Yes."
"And that's interesting?"
"To me."
Aiden didn't know how to respond to that.
So he turned back toward the pot.
"Whatever."
Theron remained where he was.
Aiden continued cooking.
After a few minutes, he spoke without looking at him.
"You know, you don't have to keep watching."
"I know."
Aiden sighed.
Of course.
Theron really was strange.
Eventually, Theron left.
Aiden watched him disappear through the doorway.
His ears lowered slightly.
Why does he keep doing that?
He turned back to the food.
He didn't see Theron stop farther down the corridor.
The god looked back toward the kitchen.
He didn't understand why Aiden's presence seemed to pull his attention so easily.
Aiden wasn't demanding anything.
He wasn't trying to impress anyone.
He wasn't asking for praise.
He simply saw something that needed doing—
and did it.
Theron had seen countless people ask what they could receive from the temple.
Aiden seemed to ask only what he could give.
And somehow, that was far more difficult for Theron to understand.
Ronan eventually found him standing alone in the corridor.
"You're thinking."
Theron glanced at him.
"Yes."
"About Aiden?"
Theron didn't deny it.
"He keeps helping."
Ronan nodded.
"I noticed."
"Why?"
Ronan looked toward the kitchen.
"Perhaps because that's simply who he is."
Theron was quiet.
Perhaps.
But something still bothered him.
Aiden didn't behave like someone trying to earn his place in the temple.
He behaved like someone who already believed he belonged somewhere—
and was simply trying to make that place feel like home.
Theron looked toward the kitchen again.
Why does he keep acting like this place is his responsibility?
He didn't know.
But he wanted to.
More than he probably should.