Chapter 20: Lessons, Love, and the Table of Four

A WEEK OF CONTINUED LESSONS

The week after Prince Veydran’s disruption passed in a blur of fire, smoke, and food.

Day One and Two were steady. Cael continued showing Vaedranis and his entourage how to chop, measure, and prepare dishes. It was exhausting work, especially since the prince insisted on understanding why each step mattered.

But Cael didn’t mind; for once, he was the one guiding someone instead of being dragged along by chaos. It felt… grounding.

By Day Three, Vaedranis and his men insisted on cooking alone. That ended in catastrophe. One soldier somehow made his pot explode, showering the kitchen in burnt onion paste. The others’ food was either charred or raw.

Cael sat at the counter with his head in his hands, muttering: “Congratulations, gentlemen. You have successfully created weapons of mass indigestion.”

By Day Four, there was progress. Still rough, but at least the food looked edible. Cael introduced Vaedranis to a simple, hearty dish, flatbread with spiced vegetables, that even a nervous prince could handle. Vaedranis practiced it obsessively.

On Day Five, he quietly left a basket with that dish in front of Princess Grenda’s door. When she found it later, confusion turned into a smile as she tasted. It wasn’t Cael’s level, but it was surprisingly decent.

From Day Six onward, Grenda began visiting the kitchen more often, curiosity pulling her in. She tasted whatever they prepared, teasing Vaedranis when it was bad, praising him when it wasn’t.

Once, after tasting an overly salty stew, she smirked and said, “If you’re trying to poison me, Vaedranis, at least do it elegantly.” He stammered an apology, cheeks red, while she laughed and stayed longer than necessary.

The entourage added their own chaos. One soldier insisted he was born to be a “culinary genius,” but every dish he made nearly killed someone. Another, surprisingly skilled with knives, quickly became Cael’s favorite assistant, saving time when chopping vegetables.

By the end of the week, Cael found himself laughing with them more often than sighing, something he never thought possible with demons.

For Cael, the days of teaching did more than train a shy prince. They reminded him of what it was like to feel steady, useful, even normal. Instructing someone, guiding patiently.

It almost felt like his old life back in the human world. A small pocket of sanity amidst the chaos of the demon realm.

Stolen novel; please report.

By the seventh day, it was time for Vaedranis to prove himself. Dinner would be prepared by the prince, under Cael’s watchful eye. Thankfully, the guest list was small, just Ashara, Grenda, Vaedranis, and Cael.

THE DOUBLE DATE

Vaedranis was tense, almost trembling, as he worked. But he was precise, careful, applying every note Cael drilled into him. When he faltered, Cael was there, calm and steady. Together, they plated five courses: two appetizers, two mains, and a dessert.

When the food reached the table, Ashara leaned back in her chair with a sly smile. “Careful, husband. If he keeps this up, I might start demanding his cooking instead of yours.”

Cael’s stomach twisted at the tease, though he forced a smile. Ashara’s crimson eyes caught his flicker of insecurity, but she said nothing more.

Grenda, however, was wide-eyed as she tasted the first dish. “This… this is actually good.” She turned to Vaedranis, her voice tinged with surprise. “I never knew you could do something like this. I’m impressed.”

Vaedranis lowered his gaze, embarrassed but glowing inside. “I… I’m glad you like it, Princess.”

The meal continued, each dish carefully received. When Grenda finished the dessert, she lingered for a moment, then said softly, “I think this might be my favorite tonight.”

That single sentence was enough to make Vaedranis’ heart soar. Cael caught his eye across the table and gave him a discreet thumbs-up. The prince’s gratitude showed in the smallest of smiles.

As Cael leaned back, watching the subtle exchange between the two, he felt something stir in him. Teaching Vaedranis hadn’t just been about cooking, it had given him a sense of control, of stability, that he rarely found in the demon realm.

Guiding someone patiently, seeing progress, and then witnessing this small victory… it grounded him. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t just surviving chaos; he was shaping something meaningful within it.

THE BEDROOM CHAMBER

That night, in their chambers, Ashara sprawled across the bed while Cael sat on the edge, quieter than usual.

She narrowed her eyes. “Why so tense, husband? Still brooding about my little joke?”

Cael hesitated. “Maybe… a little. What if…what if one day you do prefer someone else’s cooking? Or someone else entirely? My place here… it doesn’t feel unshakable.” His words came out small, heavy with the anxiety that never quite left him.

Ashara blinked, then burst into laughter. Not mocking, but genuine amusement. She cupped his face and leaned close, her lips brushing his ear. “Oh, Cael… it’s adorable, you being jealous.

Cute, even. But let me make this clear: no one else could ever take your place. Not in my court, not in my bed.”

Her teasing reassurance loosened the knot in his chest, if only a little. Emboldened, Cael kissed her first this time, holding her tighter, surprising her with initiative.

What followed lasted only six hours, short by their standards, but Ashara was left more satisfied than usual, purring against him with a glow of fulfillment. Cael, meanwhile, collapsed against the sheets, utterly drained.

“Survived… barely,” he muttered weakly, half-dead but oddly content.

Ashara laughed again, brushing her fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “That’s my husband.”

Cael let his eyes close, reflecting as he drifted off. Being proactive made him enjoy it more, but he still needed to find a way to survive long-term.

Still, as long as Ashara smiled like that, maybe… maybe it was worth it.