Chapter 4
Chapter Four
When Riya awoke the next morning, it was to the scent of bacon.
“Good morning,” Vax said, pulling her gaze to find his hand engulfed in flame as he held an iron pot with bacon popping and eggs sizzling on its surface. “I figured you cooked for me last night, so it was my turn this morning.”
“I’m not sure that is something I will ever get used to.” She said, pointing to his hand.
He cocked his head with a smirk, “This is nothing. I can show you more tricks later.”
For some reason, that turn of phrase had her clenching her legs tightly together. “You really didn’t have to cook.”
“No,” he held up his free hand. “I insist. Now sit, and I’ll plate it for you.”
“I’m still in my night clothes. I’m not—well, they aren’t entirely decent.” She pulled her blankets up higher trying to cover the shortness and slightly sheer nature of the garment.
“I’ve been practically naked this entire time, and you haven’t even batted an eye at that.”
No, she hadn’t, because she was too busy studying every chiseled inch of his flesh.
Riya cleared her throat and rose with a nervous laugh, making her way to the table.
The wooden chair scraped against the floor as she pulled it out.
Beside her, the pan’s sizzle momentarily drew her attention away from the thin nightgown that clung to her frame.
She tugged at the hem, arranging the fabric over her legs as she felt Vax’s eyes follow her movements.
She pressed her knees together beneath the table.
The plate he placed before her was heaped with eggs and bacon, their savory aroma causing her empty stomach to growl audibly.
Vax smirked, taking a seat opposite her, “Glad you’re hungry. I might have made too much.”
“Do you cook often?” She attempted to change the subject away from the noises her stomach was making.
“No, not really,” Vax said through mouthfuls of the meal. “I lived in the barracks outside the Salamander stronghold, and most of our meals were regimented and prepared by the cooks on base. It was all fairly tasteless.”
Riya wrinkled her nose. “That sounds dreadful.” The thought of surrendering her meals to someone else’s schedule and choices made her stomach clench. Food was fuel for the soul, and without food that actually tasted good, a meal prepared with love and care, what was the point of eating at all?
“Strictly for survival.” He snorted.
“Food is my love language,” she suddenly said before she could think better of it.
That had Vax’s hand halting midway to his mouth and his head cocked to the side ever so slightly.
Riya shouldn’t have looked into his eyes at that moment, because the look in them had heat shooting through her, which pooled directly between her thighs.
Vax set his fork down, the tip of his thumb rubbing lazy circles along the edge of his plate.
The silence grew thicker between them, and Riya’s heart began to hammer in her chest, her thin nightgown feeling all of a sudden too warm.
Her mind began to wander, and she thought, what if Vax wasn’t a stranger?
What if he didn’t have to leave once he was fully healed?
The very idea of his not being here tomorrow, or the next day, left a hollow feeling inside of her.
Vax was looking at her still with that quiet intensity of his, as if he were memorizing her features.
“Home, we never lingered over meals.” His voice was a low hum that vibrated across the table, and Riya swallowed hard.
“We ate fast, always ready for the next fight. But here, it’s different.
It’s…pleasant and relaxing. And last night's meal, well that was worth crossing the ocean for.”
Riya attempted to laugh, but it came out as more of a high-pitched wheeze.
She tried to concentrate on the food until her plate was completely clean.
He instantly moved to refill her plate, and she grabbed his hand before he could do so.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
His hands dwarfed hers, his skin rough and hot, scars marring the surface, and she wondered how many battles he’d survived.
“I’ve had plenty,” she offered, pulling her hand back again. “Thank you for the meal.”
Vax grinned, that easy lopsided smirk, she realized, was entirely him. There was something about it that made her heart stutter in her chest.
“I’ll do the dishes,” she said abruptly and jumped up from the table, nearly toppling her chair as she grabbed both their plates. “The Yule festival is only six days away, and I’m already behind on my baking.”
“Yule festival? What’s that?”
“It’s our celebration of the new year. It’s the biggest event for us northerners hosted in Frosborg each year.
All the outlying people from this side of the White Giants Mountain range trek into the city.
The streets are filled with music, delicious food, and good cheer.
There’s dancing in the square and fireworks at midnight.
We celebrate from dusk till dawn. It’s a party to thank the Gods for another prosperous year, and a wish for an even better year to come.
It's… special.” Riya bit her lip, the explanation feeling somehow insufficient.
She wasn’t sure how to explain its importance.
“My family has been making the Yule confections and baked goods for centuries. It’s tradition, and the profits are enough to last me until next year’s celebration. ”
Vax leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he clasped his hands. “I knew that the bread from last night was crafted by an expert. I haven’t had something that exceptional in my entire life, if I’m being honest. That bread was pure art.”
Riya knew her mouth was gaping, that her face was probably as red as a tomato, but she was frozen, her brain sputtering, unable to form a solid thought, let alone a coherent response. No one had ever given her such a beautiful compliment as he had just given her.
He must have realized as much, because he grinned, showing his full set of sparkling white teeth, then got to his feet and said, “So when do we start?”
“W–we?” Riya stuttered.
“Yes. I’m helping. I want to see you in action.
The artist at work. Plus, you said you were behind, so I’m happy to get you caught up.
” He was standing before her with his hands on his hips, as if waiting for instruction, but then his expression changed suddenly, growing far more serious.
“Riya, I—the truth is, I’m not entirely sure where to go or how to get back home.
Helping you would give me time to heal and keep my mind off of that for a little while.
That is, as long as you don’t mind me staying with you for a few more days. ”
A sadness settled in her chest, as understanding washed over her, “In truth, the help would be lovely. I’ve been doing it all alone these past years, and well, it does get a little lonely.”
“So,” he said enthusiastically, rubbing his hands together. “What first?”
“Well, we need to get some more firewood from the barn because…” She stopped, realizing that all of the firewood she had been storing for this week was gone.
The rain began to pour down in torrents just at that moment as if to mock her.
She had no wood to stock the fire. “I—all of my reserves were in the barn. There is nothing left to cook with.”
She looked up at Vax, and his brow was raised, and he simply reached into the hearth where the final flickering flames still held onto the last remaining piece of wood.
The fire grew taller, wider, enveloping the entirety of the hearth and climbing up his bare arm like living tendrils.
When he withdrew his hand, the flames crawled back down his skin and pooled in his palm.
“It’s a good thing fire is my specialty then.”
Riya laughed at her luck because she didn’t know what else to do. Perhaps the tea leaves had predicted a pleasantly surprising turn of events for her future.