That night, the kitchen glowed softly under the flickering light of the fire, shadows dancing along the wooden walls as Lara set to work. It had been far too long since she’d had a proper meal, and tonight, she was determined to change that.
Lara decided to cook. The pheasants that Sandoz had meticulously taken care of had dwindled in number, but Lara was still lucky that at least a dozen were left.
Since there were many men, she decided to prepare a dish with soup, her favorite: chicken binakol. The savory aroma of garlic, onion, and ginger sizzling in the pot filled the room, each ingredient releasing its essence into the bubbling coconut water. She added pieces of wild chicken and the white flesh meat of the coconut, along with slices of green papaya and tender moringa leaves. The sweet scent of lemongrass curled through the air, wrapping itself around the senses like a comforting blanket.
Agilus, Redon, Aramis, and a few of the soldiers were crowding at the door trying to sniff the wonderful aroma.
When the dish was finally served, the warmth of the broth felt almost like a balm against the weariness clinging to their bones.
"Wow, I had no idea this wild chicken could be so incredibly delicious!" Agilus exclaimed, a delightful grin spreading across his face as he slurped the steaming, savory soup. Each rich, flavorful spoonful danced on his palate, awakening his senses with the warmth and depth of the broth.
"And I didn’t know that you can cook quite well, Kane," he added, casting a sideways glance at Lara.
"Hey, take it easy." Felix rolled his eyes, watching Agilus devour the meal like a starved man. "If I didn’t know you so well, I might think you’ve been deprived of food for days."
"But I did starve for a few days. That is a fact. We were eating our dry rations. When we occasionally secured a hot meal, the taste was so unpalatable that it barely resembled food." Agilus’s voice filled the small dining area.
Felix was dumbfounded. Does he really need to shout it loud? Who would expect delicious food during the war?
’Hmp. So noisy." Lara said, her voice sharp and cutting through like a knife. "Why not set aside your chatter and focus on eating instead?" Silence fell over the table, and Agilus’ lips pressed tightly together, his thoughts swallowed by the unexpected authority in her tone.
Later that night, the house grew quiet. Prince Alaric settled into Reya’s old room while Lara claimed her own. In the dimly lit room, Agilus frowned, looking around Reya’s small room with an exaggerated pout.
"Hey, Ari," Agilus asked, his brow furrowed in playful concern as he gestured towards Lara’s room on the side. "Why are you sprawled out here? Shouldn’t you be sleeping in that room instead?" His eyes sparkled with curiosity, eager to understand why Alaric chose the smaller room.
"I’m no longer sick," Alaric replied evenly, his gaze drifting toward the partition separating his room from Lara’s. "And that room belongs to her." His voice left no room for argument. "You sleep in the loft with the others."
When Alaric spoke, who dared contradict him? Agilus grumbled under his breath, climbing the rickety ladder to the loft. In the shadows, he found a small corner and curled up, cursing his bad luck. He’d thought tonight he’d finally get a good night’s sleep.
Damn, I am so wrong. Maybe I should ask Kane if I could sleep in his room. Never mind. This is much better than sleeping on the ground.
In Reya’s old room, Alaric lay on the bed, eyes half-closed, when a soft knock pulled him from the edge of sleep. Rising, he crossed the room in three long strides and opened the wooden door. His breath hitched slightly when he saw Lara standing there, a small medicine box clutched in her hands.
"Let me check your wound," she said softly, her voice laced with concern. With a graceful motion, she entered the dimly lit room. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed Alaric lingering at the threshold, his hesitant gaze fixed on her, a clear barrier of uncertainty between them.
"Alaric?" She called hesitatingly.
"I think my wound is already fine, Kane...I mean Lara, " he said in a deep voice. He stepped forward and towered over Lara.
"Have you seen it?" She arched a brow, meeting his gaze.
Alaric shook his head.
"Then how can you say it’s fine? Hurry up. I’m getting sleepy." Her tone was brisk, almost commanding.
Alaric raised an eyebrow. This woman...She dared to order him around? Had she forgotten his real identity?
Lara seemed to realize something was wrong. "I am sorry, Your Highness. I got carried away. I have just gotten used to talking to my patients, and just now, I am looking out for you as a doctor would look out for a patient."
He lowered his gaze, something unreadable passing through his eyes. "Hmmm." With a quiet nod, he lay back on the bed and pulled up his shirt, exposing the bandage wrapped around his abdomen. The firelight painted his skin in warm, golden hues, the muscles beneath it taut and lean.
Lara lit a candle and placed it atop the small wooden table beside the bed’s headboard.
As always, Lara disinfected her hands with alcohol before carefully peeling back the bandage. Her fingers brushed against his skin — just for a moment — but even that fleeting contact sent a jolt through both of them. Neither spoke. The silence felt heavier than words ever could.
Alaric watched her work, his expression unreadable. Perhaps it was the quiet intimacy of the moment, or perhaps it was something else entirely, but for the first time in a long while, he felt something stir inside him — something unfamiliar.
Lara, focused on her task, missed the way his gaze lingered on her face, searching for answers he wasn’t sure he wanted to find.
"Aren’t you uncomfortable working with male patients, Lara?" He asked, his face and the tip of his ears reddened.
"Why should I be? In the medical field, there is no gender. Besides, I have seen a lot of patients with their body naked.
Alaric’s eyes darkened.