Chapter 21 - Stirred, Not Rushed
Gideon stepped into the kitchen, ingredients in hand, and set the basket gently on the counter. Neia followed closely behind, toeing off the too-big slippers with a quiet smile. Sir Pounceforth the Third had retreated to a nearby sunlit perch, clearly satisfied with her respectful introduction.
“Would you like some tea before we start?” Gideon offered, reaching toward a polished tin by the stovetop.
Neia tilted her head, her eyes glimmering. “Only if it’s no trouble.”
He gave a soft huff; half laugh, half nervous breath. “It’s the least I can do, seeing as you're the one cooking.”
As water began to boil and soft aromas of dried herbs filled the air, Neia pulled out the neatly wrapped produce and fish they had picked up earlier. Korthian cabbage, goldenroot shallots, a regional substitute for fennel, and a thick-cut fillet of white fish, salted but fresh. Not halibut, but something close enough to what she remembered from home.
She hummed thoughtfully, hands already moving with quiet confidence as she began sorting the vegetables. “This dish is originally from the Moonshae Isles. My mother used to make it when the weather turned cold,” she explained, glancing over at him with a fond smile. “We’d sit on the porch and eat it while watching the fog roll in over the grove.”
Gideon looked over from where he was pouring hot water into two clay cups. “Sounds peaceful,” he said, gently. “I’d like to see it someday.”
Neia blinked, caught for a moment by the soft sincerity in his voice. “Maybe you will.”
He passed her the tea, his fingers brushing against hers just slightly, enough to make him pull back with a quiet breath, as if the contact had startled him more than it should’ve.
Neia just smiled and turned back to the ingredients. “Alright, Captain Thorne. Let’s get started.”
“Captain?” he echoed, amused, stepping beside her at the counter.
“You’re the only soldier in the room,” she teased lightly, handing him a knife. “So you’re in charge of precision cuts.”
“I’ll do my best not to disappoint.” He looked at the cabbage, then at her. “Where do I start?”
“Slice the shallots thinly. I’ll get the pan warm.”
Their shoulders brushed as they worked in tandem, the narrow kitchen suddenly feeling smaller. Not cramped, but close. Intimate.
Every now and then, their hands would reach for the same ingredient, fingers brushing, Gideon’s larger hand hesitating just a fraction too long before pulling back. Neia noticed, of course, but said nothing. She just let the moment settle like steam rising from the pot.
At one point, he fumbled the grip on the salt jar, catching it before it spilled.
“Careful,” she said, amused. “You’re a bodyguard, aren’t you? I thought your hands were steadier than that.”
He gave her a look, lips pressed in a sheepish half-smile. “They usually are. You're… a bit distracting.”
Neia’s brows lifted, cheeks flushed with quiet surprise, but there was no mockery in his tone. Just honesty, a rare flash of it. And something warm and brave behind his eyes, as if he’d surprised himself by saying it aloud.
She turned back to the pan with a smile, her voice light. “Good. I’d hate to think I was boring company.”
Steam curled softly from the pan as Neia stirred, the warm scent of buttered greens and simmered shallots filling the kitchen. The fish nestled among the cabbage, soaking up the seasoned juices while a low sizzle crackled beneath her spoon.
Behind her, Gideon moved quietly, cleaning the board and watching her cook with a gaze far gentler than he meant to show. He hadn’t expected this. How quickly her presence had come to feel like sunlight on stone. Calming. Warm.
“Gideon,” she said without turning around, “come here a moment?”
He blinked, caught off guard. “Hm?”
“I want you to taste it. Just to see if it needs more seasoning.”
She turned slightly to glance at him over her shoulder. Her hair had come loose again, and the curve of her smile made his heart give a traitorous little thud.
He stepped forward, slow but deliberate, and came to stand just behind her. Close. Closer than he usually allowed himself to be. She felt the space he hadn’t left between them, like a comforting shield at her back. He was close. Closer than she’d expected. Her breath hitched for the briefest moment, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, a small smile curved at her lips as she turned, pretending not to notice.
He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the way his breath shifted, like he’d just realised what he’d done. Still, he didn’t step away.
She dipped her spoon gently into the bubbling sauce, letting the broth coat the back in a glistening swirl. Then she turned, half-twisting in his arms, her smile tilting with mischief.
“Say ahh,” she teased, lifting the spoon and blowing on it just once.
His eyes narrowed slightly, amused. “Really.”
“I’m only teasing,” she giggled, the spoon still poised. “Here.”
But before she could properly pass it to him, he leaned down, just slightly, just enough, and took the bite directly from her hand. The motion was smooth, confident, but his ears flushed pink almost immediately after. Her hand lingered in the air where the spoon had been. He didn’t say anything at first. Just chewed slowly, swallowed, then met her eyes with something soft and searching.
“It’s good,” he said quietly. “Really good.”
Neia gave a pleased little hum, eyes bright with something she didn’t say aloud. “Glad to know your taste buds agree.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Then, all at once, the boldness must have caught up with him.
“I’ll… set the table,” Gideon muttered, voice a little higher than usual. He stepped away almost too quickly, grabbing a dish towel as if it might hide his flustered state. The clink of dinnerware soon followed, louder than it needed to be, as he opened the cabinets and pulled out plates with the sort of determination one might use to prepare for battle.
Neia blinked at the now-empty space behind her, warmth still clinging to her back like a sunbeam that had just moved on. She let out a breath.
Calm down.
It’s just Gideon. A very sweet, very tall, very lovely man with unfairly broad shoulders and an even nicer voice and gods, those hands—
Stop it.
She turned back to the pan, stirring it like it had personally offended her. “You’re here to cook,” she whispered to herself, willing the heat in her cheeks to fade. “Not fall face-first into a crush like a teenager.”
Still, a faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
As the finishing touches were laid atop the dish, Gideon let out a quiet breath and stepped away from the counter.
“I’ll just… get His Majesty’s plate first,” he said, almost sheepishly.
Neia turned around just in time to see him setting a shallow ceramic bowl at the far end of the room near the window, where the light still streamed in warm and golden. Sir Pounceforth the Third sat already waiting, tail curled neatly around his paws like a dinner guest with impeccable manners. Gideon crouched down and placed the food in front of him with a small nod, as if addressing a superior officer.
“Dinner is served, sir.”
Sir Pounceforth sniffed approvingly and began to eat without fanfare, as though it was only natural for a creature of his stature to dine first.
Neia smiled quietly to herself, holding back a laugh as Gideon straightened and dusted his hands. He walked over to the dining table and pulled out a chair for her with a boyish grace that made her chest ache a little. She murmured a thank-you and settled in as he took the seat opposite hers.
The table was nothing extravagant. But it was thoughtfully set, with sturdy plates in a matching stoneware set, clean-cut silverware, and two tall glasses already filled with water. A woven runner stretched down the middle. The kind of modest, practical touch that spoke of someone raised to value order and readiness, but not so much extravagance.
As they lifted their forks and took the first bites, the sounds of the city faded into the quiet hush of the apartment. Outside, the evening settled in slow and deep, casting soft hues across the kitchen walls. Inside, two plates clinked gently. Sir Pounceforth dined with the solemn dignity of a true aristocrat. And across the table, Neia caught Gideon’s eyes just for a moment, and felt a quiet current pass between them.
A calm, cozy night of getting to know each other was just beginning.