For a few weeks, things went on like this—Kael ate Ael's dishes with interest, and his mood was now much better. He also began spending more time at the dinner table, because as long as he sat there, the head chef and Ael would remain standing nearby, and he could secretly keep looking at Ael.
He even started making special requests for his favorite dishes, and later had them brought to his chamber through the maid, with the order that Ael should be the one to prepare them. In this way, he spent a lot of his time in his own room. Besides, he never really got along with his step-siblings anyway.
On the other side, Ael could never understand why Prince Kael only chose his food over all others. Deep inside, a part of him wanted to wonder—but he never allowed himself to. Their worlds were far too far apart. And Ael knew one thing with all his heart: he could not afford even the smallest mistake, not when a single slip could stain his father's honor.
One evening, while everyone was gathered at the dinner table, Kael's stepmother announced, "Your uncle's daughter will be visiting us. She'll be staying here for a week."
Everyone continued as usual, but Kael's mood shifted instantly. For weeks, he had been sitting through dinners with his family, but that night he rose from the table earlier than anyone else. His sudden departure made his stepmother suspect that something in her words had offended him. Still, she chose to ignore it.
On the other side, Ael found Kael's behavior puzzling. Why would the prince react with such anger at the mention of his cousin's arrival? It was strange—stranger than anything Ael had noticed before.
Later, Kael's stepmother called the head chef and instructed him to carefully prepare the breakfast, lunch, and dinner menus for the week ahead. "Be extra cautious. No mistakes will be tolerated," she warned firmly.
In those days, the palace bustled with its usual rhythm. The maids were busy with their endless cleaning, the chefs and head chef were buried in preparations, and Ael too was lost in his duties. Everyone was so deeply absorbed in their tasks that time slipped away unnoticed—two whole days passed in the blink of an eye.
And then came the day they had all been waiting for. The halls were polished, the tables laid, and every detail carefully arranged. For today, Kael's cousin was to arrive—the guest whose name had been whispered again and again over the two days.
Lady Seren's arrival was met with warmth and careful ceremony. The household had prepared everything to perfection—special tea was served, and later, the family gathered in the palace lawn, chatting beneath the soft evening light. Kael sat among them, though his lips remained sealed more than they moved, his silence a wall none dared to cross.
As dusk deepened, Seren was shown to her chamber to refresh herself. Soon after, the dinner table was filled with lavish dishes, each one crafted with care. Among them rested a dish prepared by Ael, made only for Prince Kael.
Seren's eyes quickly fell on the unique plate set before him. With curiosity, she helped herself to a portion. Yet the moment the flavors touched her tongue, her expression soured. The dish was far spicier than the others, and she set her fork down with a sharp clink.
"This?" she said with a laugh edged in scorn. "Whoever made this clearly doesn't know the first thing about cooking."
The words struck Ael like a blade. Heat rushed to his cheeks, and he lowered his gaze, shame pressing against his chest. For a moment, he wished the ground would open and swallow him whole.
Kael's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists beneath the table. Rage flared so quickly it surprised even him. For a breath, he nearly lost control. His eyes, cold and sharp as steel, turned to Seren.
"That dish," he said, his voice low but laced with venom, "wasn't meant for you."
The table went silent. Seren blinked, startled, her mocking smile faltering. Kael leaned back, breaking his gaze, as if nothing had been said at all.
Ael's heart hammered. Those words—spoken so sharply, so unlike the prince's usual indifference—made him tremble. He couldn't understand. Was Kael angry only because Seren had touched something that was his? Or… was it because she had insulted him?
The thought unsettled him. Dangerous hope flickered at the edges of his mind, and he crushed it down before it could take root. No. Don't fool yourself. He's a prince, and you're just… you. Nothing more.
But even as he scolded himself, he could not shake the memory of Kael's eyes—burning, protective, almost as if they wanted to shield him.
And that frightened Ael more than Seren's words ever could.
The rest of dinner passed in an uneasy silence. Kael ate little, though his gaze strayed often to Ael, who moved quietly behind the table, refilling glasses and clearing plates as though nothing had happened. But every time Kael's eyes found him, there was a tightness in his chest he could not name.
Seren, however, noticed.
She was not a fool—beneath her polished smile lived a keen, watchful mind. That flash of anger Kael had shown earlier had not escaped her. It wasn't just annoyance; it was sharp, personal.
Why would the cold, untouchable Prince Kael defend a servant?
Her fingers toyed idly with the rim of her goblet, her eyes flicking between Kael and Ael with growing intrigue. So this is the weakness no one has seen before, she thought, a slow smile curling her lips.
Later that evening, when dinner ended and the household dispersed, Seren lingered in the corridor outside the dining hall. She watched as Ael carried trays back to the kitchens, his steps careful, his head bowed. And then she saw it again—Kael's gaze following him until the very last second, until Ael disappeared behind the kitchen doors.
Seren's heart quickened, not with affection but with calculation.
Interesting, she mused.