Chapter 61: Sniffing Trouble
At mansion. Kael placed the plates gently on the wooden table, one by one, as if performing in stage. The dinner was ready. The dishes had been arranged neatly, too neatly. Steam rose from the freshly prepared meal, carrying the scent of seared meat and fragrant spices.
He stepped back, both hands on his waist, fingers resting along the curve. He wore a white apron adorned with a delicate pattern of small, soft yellow flowers. It hung a little loosely on him, but he wore it anyway. Beneath it, he had on a brown shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his medium-toned, lightly built arms. Then he exhaled, a quiet breath of satisfaction.
"All done." His eyes sparkled with pride as he stared at the table. "Damn, it's looking so good. The tender meat, the perfect sauce... Ahh, what can I say?" He lifted one arm dramatically into the air like a stage actor receiving applause. "This—this is my cooking level, after all. Hahahaha!" His laughter echoed through the empty space.
Then, silence. His smile slowly dropped, like curtains at the end of a play. He stood still. The laughter died awkwardly in his throat.
"...What the hell am I doing?" he muttered, eyes fixed on the food. "Laughing... bragging... and there's no one here to even hear it. Have I already gone mad?"
He glanced toward the front door, just a few meters away from the sofa. "She still hasn't come back. She said she only had a few reports to sign. But it's been over an hour... What's taking her so long?"
The room answered with silence.
"But..." His hand moved to his neck as his eyes dropped to the marble floor below, a faint blush creeping onto his face—one he didn't even realize was there. "She's..."
He recalled the moment when Seraphina stood just inches away, cornering him against the tree like some kind of heroine straight out of a storybook. Her silver hair fell like a shimmering waterfall, catching the faint light as if even the darkness wanted to admire her. With her head tilted ever so slightly, she stared down at him with that cold, piercing gaze… and that smirk. That unreadable, faint smirk that made his heart twist for reasons he couldn't explain. It felt unreal. Like a scene ripped from a story he was never meant to be part of. And yet, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about it.
"She's... so majestic, though," he thought. "But that was completely unexpected from her... Was it really necessary for her to do that? What could she have been thinking at the time? And afterward—she just acted like nothing had ever happened. Typical Seraphina."
He slumped a bit, then leaned over the table, picking at a spoon that didn't need adjusting. Staring at the food again, he muttered,"Well... I guess she wouldn't say anything nice about this meal anyway. And here I am, working so hard for her. Why do I even bother?"
His expression changed slightly, eyebrows furrowed, lips tightening into a poor imitation of someone else. He cleared his throat and said in a mock-serious tone, "Hmm~ It's acceptable." His voice wasn't deep at all, not even close to her tone, but he tried anyway. "Yep. That's what she'd say."
There was a pause. Then, from across and slightly to his left, a voice came—
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Kael jumped.
The voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. He spun around, and there she was—Seraphina. Standing at the foot of the stairs, just behind the sofa. Her arms already crossed. Her expression? Ice cold. Her presence? Towering.
"Grinning like an idiot, talking to yourself—did you finally lose your mind, or did you leave your brain outside?" she asked with venomous calm.
Kael stumbled backward, smacking into the chair and catching himself just in time. "Hhh—what are you doing here?!" he sputtered. "Wait—when did you even get here?!"
His eyes darted up and down, catching the change of clothes. A pale gown. Soft, elegant. Not the armor she wore to the Knight Orders office.
"…And when did you even change your armor to gown, huh? What's going on?" He glanced at the clock on the wall. "The time's right… but—when did you sneak in?"
Seraphina said nothing at first. She just stared at him like he was a particularly annoying bug.
Then, slowly, she walked forward. "I actually…" she started, but paused, letting the silence do half the talking. "I came home before you."
Kael's eyes widened slightly in a dramatic way. "Huh?… What?"
"I got here earlier," she said plainly, as if it didn't matter. "There was nothing left to do at the office. Arwyn and Lyra took care of the remaining reports. So… staying there felt pointless. That's why I came back."
She stepped closer.
Kael gasped, grabbing a spoon from the table and pointing it at her like it was a sword. "You what?! You came home before me? Wait a second… you avoided me earlier, didn't you? There's only one way into this mansion—you had to pass by me. You saw me, and you just walked right past without even stopping!"
"And I? I ran as fast as I could—even though I didn't want to—just to get here first. I made dinner for you as quickly as possible. I was here, waiting like some lonely husband, hoping to greet my cold, secretly sweet wife… and you were already here the whole time?! How could you do this to me? How?!"
He turned away dramatically, wiping at eyes that weren't even close to crying. "This is a crime. A real crime. I deserve better than this. Abandoned by my own—well, my own tormentor."
Seraphina tilted her head, unimpressed. "Are you done?"
"Not even close!" Kael replied, straightening up with theatrical dignity. "If you were already home, why didn't I sense your presence? Shouldn't I at least realize you were here? Don't tell me you're hiding in the shadows, spying on me in secret."
She stared at him blankly. "I was in the bath. Obviously."
He paused. "…Oh." Then, without thinking, "And what were you doing in the bath?"
Seraphina gave him a stare so flat it could've leveled mountains. "Cooking, actually," she said dryly. "Don't you know? I installed a kitchen in there. Very convenient for boiling people alive."
Kael's face flushed slightly with embarrassment at his foolish question. "Why—why don't I think before speaking to her?"
Kael scratched his head awkwardly, eyes flicking toward the stairs behind her like they might reveal some secret. "No, no—I meant like… if you were already home, why didn't I notice...?"
Seraphina exhaled, not even bothering to hide the irritation in her tone. "Because your brain is small. Don't strain it thinking about things beyond its capacity. Honestly, I'm surprised you even figured out I avoided you on my way here."
Kael narrowed his eyes like a scolded cat. "You don't need to be so mean, you know?"
"I do need to." Her reply was instant—cold as ice. "You're just being way too irritating. It's just…" She paused but didn't said anything.
Kael looked at her, wondering why she suddenly stopped talking. He waited for her to continue, but instead, she took a few steps closer, stopping just a few feet away. Her eyes dropped to the apron tied around his waist. She stared at it blankly, her brows lifting slightly—as if her mind had momentarily disconnected for a moment.
"Hey… idiot?" she finally said, voice low and unimpressed. "Why are you wearing my apron?"
Kael blinked, then looked down as if seeing it for the first time. "This? What do you mean yours?" he said, feigning offense, hands dramatically flying to the fabric. "You're mistaken, darling—it's actually mine."
Seraphina's blank stare didn't falter. "Huh…?"
"Did you forget?" Kael tilted his head like a child explaining a basic rule. "The moment we got married, your things became mine, and mine became yours. It's called sharing, sweetheart."
"That's not how it works," she said flatly.
"Besides," he continued, ignoring her logic entirely, "Look at this apron—it's adorable! Just look at these little flower patterns. It's like I'm wearing a garden!"
He gestured wildly at the small yellow flowers on the apron's fabric, beaming like a man showing off his battle armor. "And…"—he trailed off, eyes softening with mischief—"you know what the best part is?"
Before she could protest, he brought the apron up to his collarbone, lifted the fabric gently to his mouth and sniffed.
Sniff. Sniff.
A deep, soft inhale. Almost reverent.
His eyes fluttered slightly. "Mmm. It smells so nice..."
She didn't say anything at first, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Then, after a long, deep sigh, she said coldly,
"Whatever. Just… wash it afterwards, alright? I don't want it smelling gross. Like you."
Kael blinked. "Wait… no reaction? Why isn't she getting angry? What's going on?" He glanced down at the apron again. For a moment, he thought it was his—until he truly realized he was actually wearing hers. "Oh, I see now… so that's how it is." A crooked, almost mischievous smirk crept onto his lips. "She's trying to act unaffected. Even after I wore her stuff. How adorable."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming.
"Should I push a little more? Just a bit?"
Kael clutched his chest in mock pain. "You think I smell gross?"
She glanced away. "How should I know?" she muttered.
"Well, you're the one who said it. So clearly... you've been smelling me." He raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you secretly sniff me while I sleep?"
"Shut. Up." Her voice was sharp, but her posture gave her away—shoulders tense, face averted.
Kael chuckled softly. "Touché."
She glanced at the apron again, thinking, "Thank God I washed it. Does he have no sense at all? How could he casually sniff my things like that?" Then her eyes narrowed. "Wait… did he do it on purpose? I swear, this idiot. Stay cool, Seraphina. Stay cool."
Just as she was about to turn toward the chair, Kael quickly stepped forward—no, it was more like a dramatic little dash—and reached it before her. With a flourish, he pulled the chair back, bowing slightly as if performing before an invisible audience.
Then, spinning back toward her, he placed a hand over his chest and smiled wide, full of theatrical charm.
"Please, take this seat, my humble queen of the Frost Kingdom," he said, his voice laced with exaggerated reverence. "The world's greatest knight of all time… the sovereign who rules mercilessly over my poor, undeserving soul."
Seraphina gave him a long, flat stare. Not irritated exactly, but dangerously close. A pretty stare, nonetheless.
"…Do you really have to do this every time?" she asked coldly, her tone as icy as her kingdom's name.
"Absolutely," he said without missing a beat. "For now, I am but your lowly servant. Your ever-loyal knight. I shall serve you in every way I can—even if it's just pulling out a chair for my cruel, beautiful tyrant of a wife."
He made a few elaborate motions with his hands, ushering her toward the seat like some overly proud butler.
Seraphina sighed, long and slow, her shoulders rising and falling with practiced patience. "Fine. But you're ridiculous."
"Guilty," he whispered dramatically, bowing again.
She walked past him, her steps unhurried, her chin tilted with royal indifference. And though she sat down slowly—far more gracefully than usual—Kael noticed it. The softness in her movement. But he said nothing. Only smiled to himself like it was his secret.
Unexpectedly, just as he turned to grab the plate, she gave him a quick, sideways glance. Subtle. Barely a flicker. But it was there.
He didn't catch it. His eyes were closed, savoring the moment like a child might enjoy a well-earned victory.
Kael then placed her plate gently in front of her and began serving with an almost comical seriousness, moving like a waiter in a royal banquet.
"Your highness," he announced solemnly, "I present to you the evening's humble feast, prepared by none other than your foolish jester of a husband. Please, do not throw it at my face if it doesn't please you."
She didn't say anything. Maybe because she knew saying anything would only encourage him. Or maybe, deep down, she didn't really hate the effort he poured into the food laid out in front of her.
"So," he said again, clapping his hands together gently. "My lady may begin her meal now. I shall stand here, silently praying you do not call it 'tasteless slop' like last time."
Seraphina glanced at him, unimpressed. "I didn't say it was tasteless. I said it lacked character."
Kael grinned. "Ah, yes. My bad. How could I forget such generous praise?"
He gestured once more. "Please, go on. Take the first bite. Let me know if I should prepare my grave."
With an ever-so-slight roll of her eyes, Seraphina picked up her spoon, not even looking at him now. Slowly—almost like it meant nothing at all—she scooped a small bite and brought it to her lips.
Kael still stood there, clutching the chair beside like it was a shield, eyes glinting with anticipation. "So…" he leaned slightly forward, voice teasing, "How is it, my queen?"
She cast a sideways glance at him. It was the kind of look that could freeze a volcano mid-eruption. But for a fleeting moment, something shifted—just barely. A flicker in her eyes. And then came the answer:
"…It's acceptable," she said, almost too casually.
Kael didn't say a word. Instead, his lips curled into a slow, devilish grin. His whole face lit up—not with mischief, but with the wide-eyed delight of a child who had just been told the monster under his bed was real… and on his side.
Her eyes drifted back to the spoon.
"Why are you still standing there?" she asked, voice even, but distant. "Sit down and eat."
Kael gasped softly, one hand over his heart as if wounded. "Eat? In front of Her Highness? No, no. That would be a crime against nobility."
She turned her gaze toward him—cold, sharp—but when she said his name, "Kael…" it came out softer than it should have. Cold, yes… but laced with something unspoken. Something almost sweet.
He gave a slow, exaggerated nod. "Okay, ma'am," he muttered with mock defeat.
Then, with the grace of a tragic actor, he slumped into the chair like a man who had just lost a kingdom. His eyes never left her as he watched her eat, still smiling faintly—as if even this cold, distant moment was something he treasured far too much.
He didn't miss it—the twitch in her eyebrow, the slight delay when she chewed, how she avoided eye contact now. She was trying hard not to react, but he could read her like an open book with half the pages ripped out for now.
"I knew it," he murmured to himself. "You do like my cooking…"
He took a spoonful for himself, savoring it obnoxiously with a dramatic hum. "Mmm~ The tenderness, the flavor… What can I say? I am a culinary genius."
"Spare me your delusions," she muttered, not even glancing up. "It's not that the way you sound like it."
"Of course, honey." he whispered.
A pause followed, then Kael leaned on the table, chin resting on one palm, smiling like a man who knew he was about to be punched and was going to enjoy every second of it.
"So, darling… tell me," he began, dragging the word out with playful flair, "Why did you ask me that earlier? About my feelings toward you?"
Seraphina paused mid-bite. Her fingers tensed around the spoon. Her eyes didn't move, but the sigh that escaped her lips was heavy and pointed.
"Of course he won't let it go… Why would he? I should have expected this." She glanced at him finally, her voice sharp and clipped. "Is this really necessary for you to know?"
Kael blinked at her innocently, "I mean, my heart was trembling after you asked me."
She ignored that. "I haven't actually thought about it," she said. "I only asked to make sure someone like you doesn't fall for me. Understood?"
Kael gasped dramatically, clutching his chest again. "Someone like me? Oh, darling, you wound me! I'm gonna die."
"You'll live," she muttered.
"But you do love me, right?" he asked with a grin that spelled trouble.
She sighed louder this time. "Of course I don't. There's nothing—absolutely nothing—about you to like. You're a lazy bastard who does nothing. You've got a below average face, not even a proper body. And worst of all… you're a liar."
She took another bite of the meat, chewing it slowly. She clearly didn't want to admit how good it tasted. Her expression faltered for the briefest moment, but she quickly fixed it.
Kael winced at every word like she was flinging daggers. His hand clutched at his heart again. "It hurts, you know… Like you just fired a thousand tiny arrows into my soul. Have mercy on a poor man, will you?"
"I say it because it should hurt. You need to face reality. You have zero qualities of a real man. In fact, I don't even consider you one," she said, setting her spoon down for a second and staring at him with a terrifying sense of finality.
Kael blinked. Once. Twice.
"Well, well…" he muttered, leaning back in his chair with arms crossed. "So that's how it is, huh? Guess you just have terrible taste in men."
She narrowed her eyes. "Correction: I have no interest in men whatsoever. I'm perfectly content the way I am."
"Spoken like someone who's afraid of falling madly in love with me," Kael whispered with faux intensity, raising his spoon like it was a dramatic prop.
"I'm more afraid of catching your stupidity," she said flatly as she reached for the water jar and poured herself a glass.
Kael watched her. His dramatic flair quieted for a moment.
"She's always like this… Cold, sharp-tongued, mean as hell. But… she's here. Eating the food. Staying. That has to count for something, right?" He looked at his spoon, then at her again. And grinned.
"Well, at least you're still here. That means I must be doing something right."
And so, they finished their dinner—quietly, with a bitterness neither of them fully understood, lingering more in the air than in the food.
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(Chapter Ended)
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A/N: The next chapter will be uploaded tomorrow at the same time. I'm really exhausted from all the studying, and I have an exam tomorrow too. Honestly, I just don't have the energy to write another chapter right now—and if I tried, it would probably feel rushed. So, I'll work on it after the exam.
If this chapter felt a bit fast-paced, I sincerely apologize—I had to rush it a little. Thank you so much for reading.
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To be continued...