The art of cooking.

Juzarh

Leiya

“Nice to meet you Lyle.”

I mumbled. He made his way to the table where I sat, taking his seat across from me.

“So Leiya,” he looked up at me with warm eyes.

“You must be hungry.”

The moment he said the words, my stomach rumbled aggressively and loudly. Loud enough for both of us to hear, and for him to laugh at me.

“Say no more,”

He announced with a wide grin, getting up from his chair. He walked to the pots and pans on the small stove. He lit up the stove, placing a pot of water on it. He started to chop up carrots and other vegetables, as he waited for the water to come to a boil.

I had never seen a man cook. I didn't even think they knew how to. It was always the women that were supposed to do so, and that was in the non-royal household. Growing up, my father didn't let Nayla and I go near the kitchen. He said that was the house of the maids and we weren't maids so we had no business there. As a result, I also didn't know how