[redith].
My gaze drifted to the open back door that led into the small garden. A gentle breeze carried in the scent of earth and flowers.
Briefly, I wondered if my maidservants had already gone to gather the fruits I would need today.
Today’s task was simple but essential—the first step in preparing the digestive tea. Washing. Cutting. Drying.
The fruits needed days, not hours, to dry properly in the sun before they could be infused and blended.
Almost on cue, footsteps approached from the garden side.
Kira entered first, followed closely by Deidra, Arya, and Cora. Each of them carried large basins brimming with ripe pineapples, kiwis, and raspberries. The fruits were vibrant, fresh, their natural sweetness already filling the room.
They set the bowls down carefully, their movents efficient and practiced. And not one of them looked tired.
I smiled faintly and instructed, "Wash all of them thoroughly, every single piece. We can’t afford contamination."
"Yes, Luna," they responded in unison, already moving to work.
Just then, the double doors opened, and Azul stepped inside and shut them behind her. She carried a woven basket filled with fresh peppermint leaves—still damp with morning dew.
Perfect!
I nodded in satisfaction. "Lay the leaves out on the drying racks," I said. "Make sure they are not overlapping."
She obeyed. And imdiately, the room filled with quiet movent—the sound of water, knives against cutting boards, and soft murmured confirmations.
This was good.
After the first step was done, I stood back and watched my maidservants carefully place the sliced fruits onto several drying racks.
The pieces were spread evenly just the way I wanted. Then, one by one, they carried the racks outside into the sunlight, arranging them where the sun hit best.
When they returned, I folded my arms and gave them further instructions.
"Keep an eye on them," I said. "Flip the fruits every two days so they dry evenly. Bring the racks in by five in the evening, and take them back out every morning by nine."
They nodded attentively, committing everything to mory. And just then, right on cue, my stomach betrayed .
It grumbled so loudly that every single head snapped in my direction. And for a split second, heat rushed to my face. How embarrassing.
I cleared my throat and straightened. "Alright," I said briskly, pretending nothing had happened. "Tidy the room and go have lunch. We will continue after."
Their expressions softened imdiately. "Thank you, Luna," they said, one after the other.
I turned to the sink, washed my hands thoroughly, and stepped out of the workstation.
As I walked down the corridor toward the dining hall, I caught a faint, sweet scent clinging to . I lifted my wrist and sniffed.
I slled of fruits, mostly pineapple. I grimaced slightly as I wondered if it would be rude to show up slling like this.
After a mont’s hesitation, I sighed. Whatever. It wasn’t as if I had rolled in dirt. But when I entered the dining hall, I slowed to a stop, surprised to see only Draven seated at the long table.
I relaxed instantly and took my seat next to him. "Where is everyone?" I asked.
He glanced up. "Busy with etings, training. Paperwork."
Good. At least others weren’t here to notice my fruity scent.
Then, I reached for my cutlery, and it hit that Draven didn’t call for lunch. He didn’t send a servant or remind .
My eyes narrowed instantly. Keeping my expression innocent, I leaned slightly closer. When the servants weren’t looking, I reached down and pinched his thigh hard.
Or... I tried to. But nothing happened. Draven didn’t even flinch. Instead, sharp pain shot straight through my fingers.
I hissed softly under my breath and pulled my hand back, shaking my fingers.
Great! I had just attacked a wall!
Draven finally glanced down, one brow lifting when he noticed flexing my hand like I had been personally wronged.
"What was that?" he asked mildly.
I shot him a glare. "Nothing."
That earned a slow, knowing smirk. Just then, he leaned back in his chair and deliberately shifted his leg, flexing his thigh just enough to make the muscles tighten beneath the fabric.
"You know," he said, far too pleased with himself, "all those years of training weren’t just for show."
I scoffed. "You forgot to remind it was lunchti."
"I assud my mate was capable of feeding herself."
"Oh, I am," I said sweetly. "I just wanted to punish you."
He chuckled under his breath and, without another word, reached for the serving spoon. He filled my plate properly this ti with extra rice, more vegetables, a generous portion of at, and slid it closer to .
"There," he said. "Consider that my apology."
I eyed the plate, then him. "That’s it?"
He leaned closer, voice dropping. "If I had known you were this violent when hungry, I would have brought you snacks when you were working."
Despite myself, I laughed. The tension in my shoulders eased a little as I picked up my cutlery and finally started eating. Moons, I was very hungry.
Draven watched for a mont. Then he said, "You’ve been running yourself thin."
I paused, fork hovering midair.
"I’m fine," I said automatically.
He didn’t call out on the lie. He rarely did. Instead, he rested his forearm on the table, fingers tapping once, thoughtful.
"You’ve been busy since you rose from the bed this morning, giving instructions to half the household, and you didn’t even stop for lunch."
I sighed and set my fork down. There was no point pretending with him.
"I just... want to get it right," I admitted. "This event. It’s my first. If it fails, it won’t just reflect on , it reflects on you. On us."
His gaze softened, but his voice stayed steady. "You don’t have to prove your worth by exhausting yourself."
I looked down at my plate. "I know. But I want to do sothing aningful. Not just appear to exist beside you."
He reached out then, his fingers brushed mine warmly. "You already are," he said simply. "But if you insist on carrying the weight of half the estate, at least let others help you."
I huffed. "I am letting others help."
"Barely," he countered. "You are still doing the most important work yourself."
I glanced at him sideways. "You say that like it’s a bad thing."
"It’s only a bad thing when you forget you’re allowed to rest."
For a mont, neither of us spoke. The clink of cutlery and the quiet hum of the dining hall all felt strangely calm.
Then he added, casually, "Also, next ti you try to punish , aim higher. Your nails won’t survive another attack on my legs."
I snorted, shaking my head. "Next ti, I will bring a weapon."
The corners of his lips curved. "That’s my girl."
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