Chapter 12
Azahara
They sat down for lunch, with Illyan bombarding them with a tyrant of questions.
Amidst the deluge of inquiries, she wondered how they managed to eat the sandwiches they had prepared.
They speculated about her extended absence, almost divulging a hint about her reawakening.
Luckily, Azahara skillfully redirected the conversation, steering it away from the sensitive territory.
Kaed deliberately chose to sit beside her, bringing a smile to her face.
It also caught her attention, which she hadn’t noticed earlier, that he had finally changed from the two outfits he had been alternating between during their first week.
Undoubtedly, it was Illyan’s influence. He now wore a striking black shirt with a gold vest paired with black pants.
Though his attire was impeccable, his eyes appeared tired, with a faint hint of purple underneath.
All caused because he hadn’t slept or eaten since the incident.
“Mother to Ladybug,” Illyan called out to her.
“Hmm?” She turned to see them staring at her expectantly. “Sorry, can you repeat the question?”
Illyan narrowed their eyes at her. “I said, did you enjoy the sandwich?” Their purple eyes slanted into an almost seductive glance.
Azahara tilted her head to the side. Her eyes narrowed. “No—it was bad, but I appreciate the effort.”
They threw their hands up into the air. “I knew it. Too much pepper.”
Kaed cut in. “You put pepper… on a peanut butter and jam sandwich?”
“That isn’t the point. You didn’t like it. I’ll do better next time.”
Azahara sighed and shook her head. “Don’t overthink cooking, Illy.” She leaned back in her chair. “It’s an art, like painting and drawing. It takes time, but once you get it, you get it.”
“You should tell us why you are such a good cook, Ladybug.” Heat rose to her cheeks as Illyan put her on the spot. Her eyes trailed to see Kaed looking at her. Oh, now you don’t hate them, how friendly. She thought as a smile crept across his lips.
Kaed nodded. “I was thinking maybe you had put something in the food to seduce me or something, but it’s just that good.” Illyan cackled, and she blushed. “I’d love to hear why.”
She cleared her throat. “It’s nothing—I mean, not really an interesting story.”
“Oh, she is so modest,” Illyan said, and she shot them a warning glare. They threw their arms up in surrender.
“Fine...” she conceded.
They both stared at her and honestly, she did not like the attention.
“In my village, there wasn’t much of a path for women.
Most of the ladies were sent off to find noblemen or wealthy family to marry off to their sons.
Of course, my parents wanted the best for me, and as their only daughter—at the time—they figured cooking would be the way to a man’s heart.
My mother loved to cook, and my dad would always say that it was why he’d fallen in love with her. ”
They both got comfortable, Kaed crossing his leg and Illyan leaning their head into the palms of its hands.
“My mom began teaching me how to cook from an incredibly young age. I was cooking for them by five, I think. Full meals, not just porridge or toast. I had a talent for it, which sounds so silly to say now, but it translates to my art today.”
“Uh huh…” Illyan was pressing, and she eyed them. Glancing at Kaed, there was curiosity building as well. Suppose she had just told him the reason she learned to cook was to find a man.
Clearing her throat, she continued, “Right, well, at ten, my parents became bunny rabbits and began having children. Twin boys, then a year later, another son.” Kaed’s eyes rounded in surprise.
“Two years later, they had a daughter and another one the year after. Then…” Counting in her head, but wording ‘one, two, three… four’, she continued, “Five years later they had triplets, one dying at childbirth, rounding a total of eight kids.
I ended up forgoing any ticket to leave them.
So, I kept cooking—not for the future of a husband, but for my family.
“When I turned eighteen—” She would need to be careful about timing when she was retelling her story.
“My eldest siblings were eight. Things were developing in our small village, like schools, so they were able to attend. My father had suggested I take my talents with cooking to the kingdom and be a chef for the king.” She laughed at the thought of how mundane that life would have been.
“Still, my mother needed help, so I opted to stay longer.”
Azahara visibly tensed and adjusted her shoulders. “Needless to say—I didn’t leave the village to go to the kingdom to become a chef.”
Illyan pushed back in their chair and stood up, taking their plates. “What ended up happening? Why didn’t you go? Your cooking is, and I’m purely saying it because it is true, better than anything I’ve ever eaten. Doubtful the king would have said no to having it daily,” Kaed said genuinely.
The Fae said nothing and just began cleaning up their exceedingly small mess in the kitchen.
“Slowly, but with a force that felt like wrath.” Her throat felt dry, so she took a sip of the water that graciously appeared on the table next to her.
Thanks, Illy. “My family began to perish. My eldest brothers were the first to go, both lost in battle, as they had just turned old enough to be shipped off to fight for that king I would have cooked for.” Her eyebrow twitched, and she took another sip of water.
“Aza, I’m so sorry—you don’t have to—”
Illyan cut him off. “They both fought valiantly.”
Kaed turned his head and cut them a look of disbelief. She leaned in and rested her hand on his knee.
“It’s okay.” What she couldn’t say was that this was nearly five centuries ago. “Thank you, Illy. They did, and my parents were proud of them and their sacrifice. If it had stopped there, I don’t think I would have lost them the way I did.
“My third eldest brother died of illness, a strange disease that ate him from the inside out. It was… graphic.” She swallowed hard. “The youngest twins were lost next, which I think is what sent my parents over the edge. In the following months, they had both—”
Death is so finite. She thought, pausing briefly.
“They took their own lives. While that seems selfish, leaving three daughters, they were hurting.” She had been gone by that point but would leave out that minor detail.
They had all but lost every child, save for Skyy and Mel.
She had continued to watch them from afar, her heart breaking with each loss they had to endure.
When they had taken the knife to their throats, she was angry with them.
They had left her sisters in this evil world, alone and scared.
However, after all of the lives lived and stories she’d written, she no longer blamed them for Skyy and Mel’s deaths.
Their pain was not linear. They were barely surviving, and they were tired.
“I came not to blame them, but it still didn’t make losing Skyy and Mel any easier. They had died several years later: a house fire. The only solace to that was they died together.” She felt numb, so much so that the hand on hers felt like nothing.
Illyan was at her side, their large hand over her shoulder. She looked up, there was a smile there.
“I have this feeling; you will continue to amaze me.” Kaed captured her attention, and she turned to look at him.
The look of bemusement and admiration raptured his perfect face.
Her eyebrows pulled together, waiting for him to explain.
“You are so young and have gone through unimaginable things. The word strong is too weak to describe you.”
If only you knew just how weak I truly was, Kaed. She thought, their eyes never unlocking from one another.
Even still, his words sent an unshakable strength through her. While she knew it wasn’t possible, there was a sense that she could beat anything at that moment. All with that simple sentence. Maybe it was his support, both physically and mentally, that made her feel that way.
Whatever it was, she never wanted it to go away. She would fight like hell to keep it; to keep him.
“Thank you again; it’s not without its challenges.”
“Hopefully, I can help you overcome them,” he quickly quipped, taking her hand and kissing it softly at her knuckles.
“Okay—” Illyan dragged out the word. “I’m right here, you know.” They leaned over her shoulder and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Proud of you.”
“Thanks for the therapy session, guys.” She shrugged them off playfully. “We have more important things to discuss than my abomination of past trauma.”
Kaed let out a low laugh. “You are right.” It was great for her to know they were both seemingly on the same page. “We should get going, back on track to get to the Order.”
We.
“We can leave today. There should be enough light to get to—” Kaed seemed to cut himself off. His eyes weren’t on her anymore, but up above her. She tilted her head up, seeing Illyan standing there.
Turning to put them into full view, she saw them stone-cold faced standing there. “You okay?” Kaed asked Illyan.
“You two are leaving?” There was a sense of worry behind their words.
“Yeah, Kaed has to get back to the Order. While we may have shaken the Gorruk chasing us, he needs to report it.” She wasn’t sure why she had to tell Illyan why they were leaving.
Illyan seemed to think for a moment. What is it?
While Azahara had no magical ability, Illyan was a Fae with enough to share.
They had taught her how to open the winnox, which was the ability to open each other’s minds like a window and have conversations.
She used it sparingly, as her mind was merely human, and it could quickly be fried.
“I was going to mention it sooner, but I got wrapped up in my sandwich.” Both she and Kaed exchanged narrowed glances, their annoyance at Illyan evident. Kaed let out a weary and exasperated sigh, mirroring her sentiments.