The scent of sizzling spices filled the air as Mara stirred the contents of a dented pot, the gentle clink of a wooden spoon against its sides providing a rhythmic accompaniment to the comforting warmth of the room. Across from her, Matilda moved with practiced ease, chopping vegetables with a sharp knife that gleamed under the soft lights.
"You’ve always been better at this than me," Mara said with a grin, her eyes darting to Matilda. "Remember when I tried to make soup that one time and turned it into... what did you call it? Oh, right—boiled disaster."
Matilda laughed, the sound rich and full of nostalgia. "I said that because you somehow managed to burn water, Mara. Water." She shook her head, her hands moving deftly as she added the chopped vegetables into a steaming pan. "You’re lucky Zafron wasn’t home to see it. He would’ve never let you live it down."
Mara chuckled, her gaze softening as she stirred the pot. "He would’ve teased me for weeks. Remember how he always offered to help in the kitchen?"
"Oh, I remember," Matilda said, her smile widening. "That man thought adding salt fixed everything. He once put so much salt in a stew that I’m pretty sure it could’ve cured meats."
Mara laughed, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. "You were so mad. But then he made up for it by buying us that fancy dessert from the market."
Matilda’s knife paused mid-chop, her expression softening. "He always had a way of making up for things. Even when he was out working and barely home, he’d find ways to show he cared."
Mara nodded, her smile turning wistful. "Like the time he brought back those Drakorian firefruits. We made jam together, and he ended up getting more of it on his face than in the jar."
Matilda chuckled, her eyes shining with the memory. "And then he convinced us to have a jam fight. I was finding sticky patches in my hair for days."
They both laughed, the sound echoing warmly in the room. For a moment, it was as if they were back in Drakoria, their lives uncomplicated and filled with lighthearted moments shared in the kitchen.
Mara set the spoon down and leaned against the counter, watching Matilda with a fond expression. "I missed this. Us. Just cooking, talking. It feels... normal."
Matilda’s hands slowed as she reached for a box of spices. "I missed it too," she admitted, her voice soft. "It’s been a long time since anything felt normal."
Her words hung in the air for a moment before Matilda opened the box and frowned. "Damn it," she muttered, holding it up. "Almost empty?"
’I thought we had plenty.’
Mara’s brows furrowed. "What? Is the problem?"
Matilda turned to Mara. "Nothing serious. Keep an eye on the food. I need to check something."
Mara nodded, sensing the sudden tension in Matilda’s posture. "Sure. Don’t take too long."
Matilda gave her a small smile before wiping her hands on a rag and stepping out of the room. Her boots made soft thuds against the floor as she made her way to where Sakura and Cassandra were talking.
She paused at the doorway, watching the two women. Cassandra stood with her arms crossed, her expression neutral but her sharp eyes watching Sakura, who was pacing with restless energy.
"Matilda," Sakura said, stopping mid-step. "Everything all right?"
Matilda crossed her arms, her gaze serious. "Not exactly. We’re running out of food."
Both women stiffened. Cassandra tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable, but Sakura frowned. "Already? I thought we budgeted for this."
"We did," Matilda said. "But with Zafron down and two more mouths to feed, we’re going through supplies faster than expected."
Sakura’s tail flicked in irritation. "So what are you saying? That we need to go out?"
Matilda nodded. "Yes. It’s better to risk going out than to sit here and starve." Sёarch* The Novёlƒire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
Sakura’s eyes narrowed. "You realize how dangerous that is, right? Our room aboveground is destroyed. If anyone’s watching, they’ll know we’re still around. And the Exchange Yard... that’s a death sentence."
Matilda’s jaw tightened. "I know the risks, but we don’t have a choice. We’re already stretching what little we have left. And Zafron—he’s not waking up anytime soon. We need to act now."
Sakura hesitated, glancing at Cassandra, whose silence spoke volumes. Finally, Sakura sighed. "Fine. But if we’re going, we go together."
"No," Matilda said firmly. "You stay here with Mara. I’ll take Cassandra. She’s a fighter, and if things go south, I’ll need her."
Sakura’s ears flattened slightly, her expression conflicted. "I don’t like this, Matilda. What if you don’t come back?"
Matilda stepped closer, placing a hand on Sakura’s arm. "We will. But someone needs to stay behind to protect Mara and Zafron. That’s you."
Sakura’s tail flicked again, but she finally nodded. "All right. Just... be careful."
Matilda turned to Cassandra. "Are you ready?"
Cassandra nodded curtly, her eyes steady. "Let’s go."
---
Back in the kitchen, Mara was stirring the pot absentmindedly, her mind swirling with the memories she and Matilda had shared. When the two women returned, the tension in the air was palpable.
"What’s going on?" Mara asked, sensing something was wrong.
Matilda stepped forward. "We’re running low on food. Cassandra and I are going out to get more."
Mara’s eyes widened. "What? No. It’s too dangerous. What if you get caught?"
"We don’t have a choice," Matilda said, her tone gentle but firm. "If we don’t go, we’ll run out. And then what?"
Mara glanced at Cassandra, who remained silent but resolute. ’Of course she’d agree,’ Mara thought, a knot forming in her stomach. "I don’t like this," she said quietly.
"I don’t either," Matilda admitted. "But we have to try."
Mara bit her lip, her heart racing with worry. "Just... be careful. Please."
Matilda smiled reassuringly. "We will."
---
The hidden door creaked softly as Matilda and Cassandra opened it, the stale air of the destroyed room beyond greeting them. They scanned the space carefully, their eyes sharp for any signs of movement.
’No one’s here,’ Cassandra thought, stepping forward. She bent down to pick up a long piece of fabric from the ground and handed another to Matilda. "Here. Wear this."
Matilda wrapped the cloth around herself, pulling the hood low over her face. Together, they made their way to the kitchen, where the stench of rotting food hit them like a wave.
"Ugh," Matilda muttered, covering her nose. "It’s all gone."
Cassandra kicked over a crate, revealing a pile of spoiled vegetables beneath. "Nothing’s salvageable."
Matilda sighed, pulling out a small pouch of units from her pocket. "I have some money."
Cassandra nodded, patting a hidden compartment in her belt where a few glittering gems were stored. "I’ve got this. It should be enough to get us what we need."
After one last glance around the destroyed room, they slipped outside into the wasteland. The barren landscape stretched before them, the air dry and unforgiving. Matilda pulled her hood tighter, her heart pounding as they moved cautiously toward the Exchange Yard.
’This is insane,’ she thought, her eyes darting to Cassandra, who seemed calm and focused. ’But it’s better than starving.’
Cassandra’s sharp gaze scanned the horizon as they walked. ’No movement. Good.’ But she was alert, ready for anything.
The two women disappeared into the depths of the wasteland, their figures blending into the harsh landscape. Each step carried them closer to uncertainty, but also to the hope of survival.