Meanwhile, in the palace kitchen, cooks and chefs stood huddled in the corner, watching the figure in front of them with wide eyes.
The way he was cluelessly wandering toward the pots, clearly unsure of what to do next, made some of them smile. But they didn't dare move an inch—he had strictly warned them.
No one was allowed to interrupt or help him.
He wanted to make something special for Kayden that morning, and in his mind, it wouldn't be "special" if it wasn't made entirely by him. The problem? He had completely forgotten one small, crucial detail.
This was the first time in his entire life he had set foot inside the palace kitchen.
Seeing the rows of gleaming pots, pans, and utensils suddenly sent a strange chill down his spine, but he forced himself to breathe.
Oh, kitchen work can't be that hard… right? he told himself. But which pot am I even supposed to put on the fire? And… how do they even start this fire?
