Still inside the forge room, Christian kept his eyes on the tal as he hamred at it.
He couldn’t afford a mistake — not now, halfway through.
And all the while, he was waiting for an answer from Anastasia.
He had already grown suspicious of the entire situation.
And he couldn’t help but wonder if Anastasia had any other motives — ones she hadn’t revealed yet.
It was then, as he remained absorbed in his thoughts, that Anastasia finally replied.
"Yes, I’m a blacksmith... far better than you."
And then, with a smile, she asked,
"Do you want to teach you?"
Christian, hearing her offer, was actually tempted.
Soone of her strength teaching him directly... it could even possibly lead to faster progress than what he could get through the idle slot.
But it was only a brief interest.
He still believed he could achieve everything he set his mind to — without her help.
And now that he had confird her skill, his nonexistent trust in her had actually decreased.
That’s why he shook his head and said, "No, there’s no need for to inconvenience you."
"With my feeble talent, I don’t have the qualification for that."
That’s what he said — trying, once again, to flatter her with his words.
There was no need to hurt her pride or create a problem over sothing like this.
But Christian, of course, didn’t truly believe he lacked the qualification.
Anastasia narrowed her eyes at his reply.
She pouted, lips pressed forward slightly, as if feeling wronged.
But she didn’t offer to teach him again... her skills were not that cheap.
And just like that, ti passed.
By noon, Christian placed the nearly finished tal piece off to the side and decided to take a break.
When he turned, he saw Anastasia sitting in the corner — sohow having brought out a chair and a table from sowhere.
They were completely unaffected by the heat in the room, and she was sitting calmly, watching his work.
"I’m going to eat sothing," he said, glancing her way.
"Do you want to... join ?"
’Why did I ask?’
Christian suddenly wondered what had co over him.
But the words were already spoken — he couldn’t take them back now.
So all he could do was hope... maybe she’d decline.
"Why not? Let’s go."
Completely ignoring the quiet desperation in his eyes... the silent plea for her to refuse — Anastasia stood up, already having put away the chair and table.
Then, with a curious glint in her eyes, she asked, "Are you the one cooking?"
Christian shook his head and replied, "No. It’s takeout."
-----
In the dining room, spread out across the table, were all kinds of dishes — starting with hamburgers, which the table simply couldn’t be without, to more Western and Eastern food.
Christian, determined to compensate for the five days he’d gone without eating, had ordered all kinds of dishes.
So, without bothering with Anastasia sitting across from him, he simply began.
Anastasia watched him as he ate voraciously, then finally took a few bites herself.
As she chewed, her eyes sparkled.
"Wow, it’s delicious," she said.
It was her opinion on the hamburger — and Christian, who by no ans considered himself patriotic, strangely felt proud.
"Well, it’s one of the most popular foods here," he said, as if explaining so national treasure.
Anastasia chuckled at his reaction and replied, "Well, yes. It’s good."
Once her words fell, Christian continued eating, and Anastasia, no longer holding back, dove into the food as well.
The food began disappearing quickly.
Christian, too focused on the al, didn’t even notice until nothing was left on the table.
Then, looking up absentmindedly, his gaze fell on Anastasia.
He glanced at her slim fra — her stomach still looking far too small to hold anything — and wondered if she had a black hole inside her.
His eyes shifted next to her small pink lips, catching the way she licked them seductively.
There was a different charm to her now, not like usual.
And sohow, with those lips... she had eaten more than twice what he had.
"How about you order more?" Anastasia asked, pulling him from his thoughts — just as he was still staring at her lips, wondering how they tasted in that mont.
What kind of flavor did they hold?
"Well... why not?" he replied.
Then, Christian let Iris order more food, as he silently began the next round—
a staring contest between him and Anastasia.
Ti passed slowly like that, while Christian still didn’t know what to make of this petite, yet incredibly strong girl.
And more importantly — what was the right way to treat her?
The thought that she was a blacksmith with so hidden motive hadn’t left his mind.
It was still nagging at him.
Just then, Anastasia opened her mouth and asked, "Do you know how to cook?"
It was a simple question, and Christian answered honestly, "Yes."
Before, he hadn’t known how.
But after he started sneaking into the kitchen more often — using the excuse of helping, when in truth, he just wanted to make out with his sister — he ended up learning.
He wasn’t a professional by any ans, but with his comprehension, it ca to him easily.
"Then why are you ordering food instead of cooking?" Anastasia asked again.
And with this kind of ordinary question, Christian didn’t even bother trying to analyze her intent.
He just replied plainly, "Well, I don’t want to be bothered. Not to ntion, I’m working — so I don’t want to spend ti cooking too."
Anastasia smiled at his reply before saying, "It’s the sa for ."
What’s the sa?
That you also don’t want to cook?
Christian wondered, until Anastasia, noticing his confusion, clarified:
"I ant that, despite being a blacksmith myself, that doesn’t an I should do every bit of forging personally."
"Just like you don’t want to be bothered with cooking, I also don’t want to be bothered forging these simple parts."
Blinking, Christian wondered if he was too easy to read.
Because this ti... he was certain the situation wasn’t that simple.
He also wanted to tell her that it wasn’t the sa.
Even if he was lazy — if it was sothing for himself or those around him, he would forge everything on his own.
Cooking wasn’t the sa as blacksmithing.
But in the end, as Anastasia beca more and more mysterious in his eyes, he simply nodded.
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