"Hmmm, I sll sothing good. What are you preparing, Gen?" Mrs. Eliana’s warm voice floated into the kitchen as she stepped in, her eyes lighting up at the sight before her.
Genesis stood by the counter, sleeves rolled up, her hair tied loosely behind her head as she stirred a creamy sauce on the stove. The soft sll of herbs, garlic, and sothing buttery filled the air. It was the first ti Eliana had seen her cooking in the Blackwood mansion and it brought an unspoken warmth to her chest."Seeds and Snakes"
Genesis turned with a shy, cozy smile. "I... it’s nothing much. Do.." She stopped herself, catching her breath, then shook her head lightly. "My father wanted sothing I made, so I decided to make sothing for both him and Kieran."
Eliana’s smile deepened as she moved closer. "You’re making sothing for both of them? How sweet." She peered into the pot, her eyes widening slightly. "Is that... saffron butter rice? And roasted lemon chicken?"
Genesis nodded, a little proud but trying to hide it. "Yes... and a small side of grilled asparagus. My father likes it that way."
Eliana chuckled softly. "You have good hands, Genesis. Not everyone can balance flavors like this. How did you learn to cook sothing so delicate?"
At that, Genesis’s face faltered a little. Her gaze dropped to the spoon in her hand. "Monica... my stepmother," she said quietly. "She made learn."
Eliana froze for a mont. There was a softness in her eyes, a knowing sympathy. She didn’t ask further; the way Genesis’s voice dimd was enough. "Well," she said gently, forcing a smile to keep the air light, "whoever made you learn did the rest of us a favor. It slls divine."
Genesis gave a small nod and smile of gratitude, and Eliana patted her shoulder before leaving the kitchen.
Once alone, Genesis finished plating everything neatly. The warm light from the chandelier reflected off the glass bowls. Humming softly, she wiped her hands on a towel and went upstairs to grab sothing from her and Knight’s room.
The kitchen was quiet, until soft footsteps padded in.
Alia, her belly round and glowing under a loose dress, followed the sll like a sleepy cat. "Oh, that slls so good," she murmured, sniffing the air. Her cravings had been wild lately. Without hesitation, she found a plate and began serving herself generous portions, spoon after spoon until nearly half the food was gone.
She humd happily, perched herself on the counter stool, and started eating, sighing in delight after each bite.
Monts later, Genesis returned—her steps faltering as she reached the kitchen doorway. Her soft green eyes widened when she saw Alia, plate piled high, sauce dripping onto the counter.
"Alia..." she said gently, walking toward the pot and lifting the lid. Her heart sank a little at the sight, half of it gone.
"You should have asked," Genesis said softly, not angry, just surprised.
Alia paused mid-bite when she noticed Genesis standing there, but instead of guilt, she just smirked and shoveled another spoonful into her mouth.
"What?" she said flatly, her tone already defensive. "You’re looking at like I did sothing wrong."
Genesis blinked, trying to stay calm. "You should have asked, Alia. That food was for my father and Kieran—"
Alia scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please. Kieran’s the one who bought everything in this kitchen, didn’t he? So technically, it’s his food. And since this—" she patted her belly, "—is his baby, I think I have every right to eat whatever I want."
Genesis froze, her hands gripping the counter. "That’s not what I ant."
Alia ignored her, cutting another large piece of chicken. "Besides, it’s not like you’ll ever go hungry here. You’ve got maids, chefs, and a husband who worships the ground you walk on." She smiled, an and derisive. "You should be thanking for even liking your food. I could’ve called the chef to make sothing better."
Genesis gritted her teeth, her voice trembling . "You could have at least respected the fact that I was making it for them."
Alia laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "Respect? Sweetheart, don’t start talking to about respect. You think because you’re Mrs. Blackwood now, everyone has to bow to you? Let remind you, you’re not the only woman carrying the Blackwood na." She shoved another bite into her mouth. "And certainly not the only one carrying his blood."
The words hit like a slap. Genesis felt her throat tighten, her chest rising and falling. "Alia..." she whispered warningly, trying to calm herself.
But Alia didn’t stop. "You should relax. Stress isn’t good for a wife who’s trying so hard to keep her husband sane. Especially when I am the one giving him sothing you can’t."
Genesis’s jaw tightened, her fingers trembling against the counter. She took a step forward . "You’ve said enough, Alia."
Alia cautiously leaned away but then imdiately donned a smirk, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Oh, did I touch a nerve? Don’t worry, princess. I’ll leave you to cry into your next pot of soup."
She slid off the stool, brushed past Genesis with a shoulder bump, and left the kitchen without looking back, her laughter echoing down the hallway.
Genesis stood there for a long mont, staring at the half-empty pot, the sll of food now bitter in her nose. Her hands shook as she turned off the stove, her chest heavy but she said nothing.
****
Genesis steadied herself before walking down the hall, her hands balancing the tray she’d carefully prepared. The food still slled wonderful despite how heavy her heart felt after Alia’s words. She took a deep breath, forcing a small smile onto her lips before pushing open the door to Donald’s room.
The older man sat propped against a mountain of pillows, a book resting open on his lap. His face was thinner than before, but his eyes—those sharp, mischievous eyes—still carried the sa warmth and mischief they always had when he saw her.
"Ah," Donald said, closing the book with a soft thump. "I was starting to think my daughter-in-law had forgotten ."
Genesis’s smile softened, and she moved closer, setting the tray on the small table by his bed. "Never. I just wanted it to be perfect."
Donald leaned forward, taking in the scent wafting from the dishes. "Perfect, she says. Saffron rice, roasted chicken, asparagus..." He inhaled deeply, then looked up at her with a playful squint. "Just because this old man’s dying, I get treated like royalty, huh?"
Genesis froze, her heart twisting. "Father, please don’t say that," she said quickly, sitting down beside him. "You’re not dying."
For a mont, there was silence—then Donald chuckled, low and rough. "Ah, sweetheart, don’t look so scared. I was teasing." He reached out, patting her hand. "You always take everything so seriously. It’s one of the reasons I like you better than my son."
Genesis let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and smiled faintly. "Kieran might hear you."
"I hope he does," Donald said, grinning. "He might start behaving better. You feed him like this every day?"
Genesis laughed softly. "Only when he deserves it."
Donald took a forkful of the rice, his eyes fluttering shut as he tasted it. "Good heavens, this is incredible. Monica was definitely a devil if she taught you this out of cruelty."
Genesis’s laughter faltered for a second, but she kept her tone light. "She was... sothing."
Donald looked at her for a mont longer, reading the quiet behind her words, then nodded. "Well, whatever she ant for harm, you turned it into sothing beautiful. That’s what strength looks like, Gen."
Her throat tightened, and she lowered her gaze. "Thank you, Father."
He smiled gently. "Now, enough of this serious talk. Hand that chicken before I forget what happiness tastes like."
Genesis laughed softly again, cutting him a small piece and placing it on his plate. As he ate, she sat beside him quietly, her eyes softening with each content sigh that escaped his lips.
For the first ti that day, the bitterness of Alia’s cruelty faded a little, replaced by the warmth of this simple, gentle mont.
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