Chapter 19: Cooking Lessons and Honest Confessions

SUDDEN LUNCH BANQUET

The courtyard was still buzzing with gossip long after Prince Veydran’s dramatic exit. His entourage had dragged him away while he shouted about “unfinished destiny” and “rematches,” his voice echoing down the halls until mercifully cut short by a slammed door.

Cael, meanwhile, found himself right back in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, a cleaver in one hand and anxiety in the other.

Because of the duel, breakfast had been skipped entirely. That meant every dish he and the imp brigade had prepared now had to be doubled and stretched to serve as lunch instead. Worse, Ashara and Grenda were both demanding, their appetites amplified after sparring.

And once word spread that there’d been no morning feast, half the castle descended upon the kitchens in hungry expectationL soldiers, servants, even a few of the Demon Court members drifting in like carrion birds.

Cael nearly collapsed when he realized he wasn’t just cooking for Ashara and her inner circle anymore, he was feeding an entire fortress.

Thank the Abyss, Vaedranis and his small entourage had stepped in. His adviser organized the imps, two of his soldiers hacked vegetables with surprising discipline, and another soldier ferried trays like a veteran waiter.

Vaedranis himself tried to stay close to Cael, listening carefully, chopping when told, even plating dishes with meticulous neatness.

By the time they finally finished, the kitchen looked like a warzone, but food enough for a banquet had been born.

And so, a banquet it became.

What was supposed to be a quiet lunch for four turned into a full castle celebration. Long tables were dragged out, dishes lined up, and for once, the chaos was laughter rather than bloodshed. Plates clattered, imps cheered, soldiers loosened their armor to eat more comfortably.

For a fleeting moment, Cael thought: This isn’t so bad.

HEARTFELT CONVERSATIONS

When the tables were cleared and the wine slowed its pour, Ashara and Grenda excused themselves. The princess insisted she had something in town Ashara “just had to see,” and the two strode off, still bickering about who had the better sparring record.

The castle quieted.

Exhausted but curious, Cael made his way back toward the kitchens. He half-expected to find his imps asleep in the flour sacks. Instead, he found Prince Vaedranis standing alone at a counter, sleeves rolled up, notes spread beside him.

He was carefully slicing an onion…poorly. Too much pressure, uneven cuts, and he was on the verge of turning it into mush.

Cael leaned on the doorframe for a moment, watching. The hot, handsome demon prince looked less like royalty and more like a student terrified of failing his first cooking class.

Finally, Cael stepped forward.

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“You’re pressing too hard,” he said. “Onions don’t need to be punished, they just need to be guided.”

Vaedranis startled slightly, then looked sheepish. “Ah. I see.” He tried again, awkwardly correcting his motion.

“You’re really taking this seriously,” Cael noted, folding his arms. “You must really be in love with Princess Grenda.”

Vaedranis’ blade froze mid-cut. His face turned faintly red, not from the onions. “...Yes,” he admitted softly. “I have been since Demon Academy. But I was… too shy to ever say anything.”

Cael tilted his head. “Shy. For a demon prince.”

“It’s not… typical,” Vaedranis admitted.

Cael hesitated, then said what had been on his mind since their first meeting. “You and your entourage, you don’t feel like the other demons I’ve met. You seem… more stable. Less chaos.”

At that, the prince gave a small, almost amused smile. “That is because of where we live. The Obsidian Gulf borders the human and elven realms.

If we acted like… them…” He gestured vaguely, as if invoking every screaming general, shrieking adviser, and chaos-imp. “...we would have no way to trade or coexist. So, yes. We are taught to be more restrained.”

Cael exhaled. “Honestly, it’s refreshing to deal with normal demons for once.”

Vaedranis chuckled quietly. “Funny. Where I’m from, we’re considered abnormal because of that restraint.”

“Then I’m happy to deal with abnormal demons,” Cael said with a grin.

For a moment, silence stretched. Then…

A voice whispered right behind Cael’s ear: “Did someone say abnormal? Ah, Cael, you look like you’re finally ready to confront your fragile psyche again…”

Cael yelped, nearly dropping a pot. Standing behind him was a demoness in a long robe, eyes glowing faintly, holding a quill and parchment. Her aura was mellow, almost soothing, except for the way she licked the quill in anticipation.

“Uhm… no. I didn’t call you,” Cael stammered.

She looked genuinely disappointed. “Not even a small trauma session? Maybe a quick dive into your nightmares?”

“No!”

With a sigh, she vanished into mist, muttering, “Fine. But you’ll crack again sooner or later…”

Cael groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Vaedranis looked… confused, but also slightly alarmed.

“Who… was that?”

“My therapist,” Cael muttered. “Long story.”

The prince studied him for a moment, then asked, “How have you not gone insane living here?”

Cael stared into the middle distance. “I… honestly don’t know. Well…the therapist helps a littl, and…” He hesitated, then added more quietly, “...my love for Ashara keeps me sane.”

Vaedranis blinked. “You… love her?”

Cael rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… yes. At first I was more scared than anything. She terrifies me.

But the longer I’ve stayed, the more I’ve realized I want her to be happy. So I cook, I… endure, I…try. And that’s love, isn’t it?”

Vaedranis’ admiration was plain in his eyes. “You endure chaos for her happiness… That is far braver than most demons could manage.”

Cael smiled faintly. “And that’s why I can see how sincere you are with Princess Grenda. So I’ll help you. If my stew can win me a demon queen, your cooking can definitely win you a demon princess.”

For the first time, Vaedranis laughed, soft, awkward, but real.

The two of them bent over the counter, Cael pointing out mistakes, Vaedranis scribbling notes with childlike focus.

From the doorway, Vaedranis’ adviser and soldiers watched quietly. One soldier whispered, “Is he… laughing?”

The adviser wiped at his eyes, emotional. “The prince… he’s finally opening up to someone.”

And for the first time since arriving in Ashenfall, Cael felt like he had a friend.