Chapter 65: First....

Chapter 65: Chapter 65: First....

Jason walked through the front door still carrying the loose, undignified grin from the market, bags of expensive ingredients in both hands.

"You’re in a good mood," Judith observed, looking up from where she sat with Novaria.

"Good day ladies." He set the bags down on the counter.

"Actually, would you mind staying a little later tonight? I want a second opinion on something I’m making."

Judith raised an eyebrow. "Later how late?"

"Hour, maybe two. I’ll send some home for Caleb too, so it’s not a total loss of your evening."

That earned a small, considering pause before she relented.

"Fine. Twist my arm with free food, why don’t you."

"Works every time."

He left the two of them to talk and checked the clock on his way into the kitchen. A little past seven.

’Four hours?

That shit did not feel like four hours.’

He pushed the thought aside and got to work.

---

Spirit Grain Rice sat on the counter in its pale, faintly luminous husk, unlike the regular grain he usually cooked, it didn’t need washing.

It was even believed that washing them would deplete some of its supernatural qualities.

He measured out enough for four, accounting for Judith and a portion for Caleb.

Then reached for one of the three jars of Jade Spring Water he’d splurged on at the market.

Fifteen hundred pounds a jar. He’d winced handing over the cash for all three.

He poured nearly a full jar into the pot anyway, the water catching the kitchen light with a faint, shifting shimmer, charged with enough spiritual energy that he could feel it humming faintly against his palm through the glass.

’This is some expensive stuff. And we’re about to find out if it’s worth it.’

He set the pot on the stove and lit the burner with a thin, controlled thread of Fire essence instead of the usual flame, knowing he’d need to come back every few minutes to feed it as the essence burned down.

---

Then he moved on to the meat, a thick, well-marbled cut he’d paid about ten thousand pounds for.

He cut it into four steak-sized portions and set about seasoning them properly, a coarse salt first, worked into the surface by hand, then a blend of dried peppercorn and smoked paprika for depth, a scattering of crushed garlic and rosemary pressed into the grain, and finally a thin dusting of a rare, faintly sweet spice he’d found at the back of the specialty stall, the vendor calling it something he hadn’t quite caught but promising it would "wake the meat up."

He laid the seasoned cuts across a wire rack and got to work.

Fire first, a steady, controlled torrent washing over the surface, searing it clean. Then Lightning, threaded in alongside it in short, careful pulses, tenderizing the muscle fiber from within while the heat worked the outside, the spices sinking deeper into the meat than seasoning alone ever could manage.

He kept at it, rotating between checking the rice and tending the meat, essence flaring and fading in careful rhythm.

A thread of his Perception, idle while the rest of him focused on the cooking, caught Judith’s voice drifting in from the other room.

"I’m glad I stayed," she was saying. "Whatever’s happening in that kitchen, the smell alone is worth the extra hour."

Novaria said something back too quiet to fully catch, but the warmth in her tone carried clearly enough.

Jason allowed himself a small, private smile and kept working.

---

The rice finished in just under thirty minutes, each grain swollen and faintly translucent, steam rising off it carrying a scent far richer than plain rice could hope to produce.

The meat came off the rack a short while after, internal heat settling at exactly fifty-six degrees, and he let it rest, the residual warmth finishing the job while he pulled down plates.

Three for the table. A fourth, a plastic container, set aside for Caleb’s share.

---

He plated everything with more care than usual, rice first, the meat sliced and fanned across the top, a final scatter of fresh herb for color, and carried it out to the table.

"Alright," he said, setting the plates down. "Verdict time."

Novaria took the first bite.

Her fork paused halfway back to the plate.

"Jason."

"What."

"This is-" She tried again, clearly searching for the right word and not quite finding it.

Judith took her own first bite a moment later, and her reaction was less composed, a small, startled sound escaping before she could stop it.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, that’s not fair. That’s not a fair thing to do to a person’s taste buds on a Tuesday."

"It’s Wednesday," Novaria said.

"It’s unfair on any day."

Jason tried his own portion last, half-expecting the reaction to be exaggerated.

It wasn’t.

The rice carried a depth he hadn’t tasted from any dish he’d made before, something clean and layered all at once, and the meat practically dissolved on contact, tender in a way that owed nothing to ordinary cooking technique.

’...Huh. Didn’t actually expect it to be this good.’

Nobody spoke for a while after that, all three of them working through their plates with a focus usually reserved for much more serious matters, and within minutes every plate at the table sat completely clean.

"I need the recipe," Judith said finally, setting her fork down with visible reluctance.

"No you don’t."

"I absolutely do."

"Well.

It’s a family secret.

But I’ll think about it"

She narrowed her eyes at him but let it go.

For the moment at least.

---

Once the dishes were cleared and Caleb’s portion packed, Jason walked Judith out to find a cab, and saw her off with the container safely in hand.

Back inside, Novaria was still glowing faintly from the meal, practically bouncing in her chair with leftover delight.

"I’m serious," she said, as he came back in. "That might be the best thing you’ve ever made."

"I’ll take any compliment I can get from you at this point."

He excused himself to the bathroom to wash the day’s events off himself, and through the door he could still hear her, voice carrying easily, continuing to rave about the meal with no signs of slowing.

"Honestly, I don’t even know how you managed it," she called. "The rice alone-"

"I didn’t expect it to turn out that well either," he admitted, loud enough to carry back.

"My awesomeness amazes even me sometimes."

".."

Jason had never seen anybody regret giving a complement so quickly

He finished up and stepped back out, towel slung over one shoulder, shirtless, still drying his hair with his free hand.

Novaria’s eyes tracked the movement, lingering a beat longer than strictly necessary.

"What are you staring at?," he said.

"I’m admiring fool.

There’s a difference."

"Is there now?."

"Yes there is, and it’s a very distinct difference." She tilted her head, something playful and unguarded in her expression, riding the warm, easy high of the evening.

"You’ve been holding out on me. All this time, and you’ve just been hiding that under regular shirts."

"Didn’t realize it was relevant information."

"It’s extremely relevant information."

He crossed toward her, something in her teasing pulling him closer without any real decision behind it, and crouched slightly to meet her eye level properly.

"Careful," he said, voice lower than he meant it. "Keep talking like that and I’ll start thinking you mean it."

"Maybe I do."

The teasing in her voice had softened into something quieter, steadier, and for a moment neither of them said anything else at all.

He could feel the warmth radiating off her, could see the way her breath caught slightly as he leaned in closer, the distance between them shrinking without either of them quite deciding to close it.

Her hand found the edge of his jaw, light, hesitant, and he let her guide him the last inch forward.

When their lips finally met, it wasn’t rushed or uncertain. It was slow, deliberate, months of careful, quiet closeness finally settling into something neither of them needed to name out loud anymore.

When they finally parted, Novaria’s eyes were soft, a faint flush rising in her cheeks.

"Well," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "That’s new."

"Any complaints?"

"None whatsoever."