278: Food for the soul (part 1)

Food for the soul (part 1)

She bit her cheek, observing the emotions that swirled across Egon's face.1

While it was true that she owed Andreas for saving Egon's life, she also had familial ties with the ancient one. After all, he was the man her sister loved. With Egon as her husband or not, Andreas was like a brother to Adela.

An uninvited image flooded her mind: Andreas with long hair, tangled in the sheets with a sinister woman, seemingly in control but enduring emotional and sexual abuse. How many years of this torment had he endured, all in the name of mixing his blood with the Empress's bloodline and safeguarding Larissa even before they'd met?

Was it his destiny to become nothing more than Larissa's shadow after everything he'd sacrificed to protect her?

As she continued holding Andreas's hand, Adela truly observed the two men seated side by side. The family resemblance between her husband and Andreas was striking. While Egon bore the Empress's features, particularly in terms of coloration, there was an undeniable shared essence between them, an aura of similarity.

Andreas's eyes, filled with such genuine affection for her husband, were endearing to Adela. He was precious to her, no doubt.

Could she mend the strained relationship between this ancient, somewhat unlucky being and her sister? It was clear that being friends with his second mate wasn't an option.

The first logical step was to encourage Andreas to open up about his first mate, particularly now that an extensive campaign was about to set off in pursuit of Arkin's path. Her thoughts meandered into a strange territory, considering potential links between the first Oracle and the mutations observed in the predators from that region.

But was this the right moment to broach such subjects with Andreas?

"Andreas," she called for his attention, interrupting his hushed conversation with Egon, a conversation she had missed entirely while lost in her thoughts about him.

"In Latora, Egon and I had a conversation about his feelings for me."

Maintaining eye contact with Andreas, she recalled the intimate moments she shared with her husband in that tent, and her cheeks flushed deeply. Avoiding Egon's gaze at all costs, she continued.

"He likened me to an illness," she began, her gaze now on Egon to gauge his reaction. A visible vein pulsed on his forehead as he continued to listen. "He even compared me to death."

Andreas threw an accusatory look at Egon as her explanation continued.

"It wasn't romantic or kind, to say the least. In fact, it was quite heartless. But it effectively conveyed his inability to distance himself from me. And, as someone with some insight into the mate bond, I must admit I understand his perspective."

Egon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by where this was heading, while Andreas remained intensely focused.

Squeezing Andreas's hand, she pressed on.

"By telling her that you only want her happiness, that you want to stay friends with her, you're confusing both of you," she said, shifting her gaze to her husband. "This situation the four of us are in is all or nothing... If she doesn't become your wife, you must distance yourself from her once and for all."

Something flickered in Egon's dark eyes. Was it irritation, surprise, or perhaps fear?

Andreas took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you for your words of wisdom and your caring touch. I'll certainly reflect on the approach I've taken with her."

Adela gave Egon a sidelong glance, wishing he could be as gentle with his words as Andreas. Her attention returned to the man who had become an inseparable part of her family in more ways than one. He needed a bath, a good night's sleep, and probably some food too.

"Let me prepare something for you in the kitchen. What would suit your palate right now?"

Egon shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"My stomach is rather sensitive at this point; solid food won't do," Andreas replied, his look filled with implied meaning.

"In that case, I'll make some soup," Adela said, choosing to ignore the unspoken implications swirling in the room.

Andreas blinked twice before bursting into wholehearted laughter. He kept one hand in Adela's and used the other to affectionately pat Egon on the shoulder.

"As if she can make soup to begin with," Egon muttered rudely.

Adela was about to retort and question just how low his opinion of her culinary skills was when Andreas, seemingly lost in his giddy bubble, spoke first.

"Food from a Healer like your wife? I'm sure it will be comforting too. But then, did she ever cook for you?"

She excused herself with a small smile and made her way to the kitchen. There had to be something in there that she could use to make soup. The kitchen was vast, with numerous cupboards, many of which were cooled with means of mana.

The maids surely had access to everything and filled it... Right?

As Adela contemplated preparing the soothing bowl of soup for Andreas, her ever-watchful husband couldn't resist following her.

"There should be something pre-made in one of those," he stated the obvious. "We can just heat it up. His stomach is very sensitive to human food."

She folded her hands across her chest in a manner she had seen him do many times before. "I can make something from scratch for him."

Egon looked at her with narrowed eyes shapely, parted lips, as if he found her statement insulting.

"What? I can't manage that much?"

"A noble Lady such as yourself?"

She suppressed a smile. The Baroness had plenty of hobbies, and baking and cooking were two of them. Moreover, many of her medicines required thoughtful processing before being bottled. In an effort to maintain secrecy, most of this processing took place in the Baroness's kitchen, a place that Lady de Lanark was quite comfortable in.

She let her confidence shine through her expression and observed as his confidence wavered.

"Why don't you go back to where you came from and wait for the magic to happen?"

A smile tugged at his lips. "No way. The prospect of my noble Lady wife attempting to prepare a humble dish like soup is too intriguing to pass up."

She let out a long sigh as she stood before the kitchen counter, studying an array of neatly arranged ingredients. A playful smirk crossed Adela's face as she glanced at Egon, who leaned against the doorframe, a hint of skepticism in his eyes.

Raising an eyebrow, she said, "Well then, My Lord, would you mind lending me a hand with this?"

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