Page 44 of Smoke, Mirrors, & Misdemeanours

Stew wasn’t elegant. It was thick. Messy. The epitome of humble, plebeian comfort food—slow-braised and hearty, meant to be slurped and devoured without ceremony. If possible, with a chunk of bread to mop up the gravy sticking to the sides of the bowl.

Yet, somehow, he made it look divine.

Cassia watched—helpless, unwilling—as he licked his spoon, the motion slow, unhurried, as if savouring every last trace of flavour. He tilted his head back slightly, throat bobbing with a swallow, keeping the spoon resting lightly between his lips. His sooty lashes fluttered shut, and for a moment—just a moment—a subtle, barely perceptible tremor coursed through him.

Then his golden eyes reopened.

And they found her.

Heat curled low in her stomach. Her fingers pressed into the dough beneath her hands, kneading harder, as if she could work that feeling out of herself the same way she worked air from the flour-dusted mass in front of her.

It didn’t help.

She realized then, with no small amount of dismay, that she could never sit across from him at a meal. Because she’d never enjoy her food, something she took particular comfort in.

She’d be too busy watching him.

For the next hour, Cassia was a whirlwind, moving seamlessly between the register, customers’ tables, and the kitchen. She carried out platter after platter, barely breaking stride, many of them destined for one particular table.

Elios Rhodes, as it turned out, had an appetite as prodigious as his physique. Ark and Caius looked increasingly mortified each time she returned with yet another dish, but Rhodes remained completely unfazed. If anything, he looked proud of himself, digging in with the unabashed enthusiasm of a man who saw no shame in fully enjoying his meal.

Cassia, personally, loved it.

By the time the plates were empty and the last crumbs of scones had disappeared, Cassia sensed the weight of well-fed contentment settling over the table.

Caius leaned back in his chair, as if too stuffed to bother with the proper posture. Ark had finished his meal long ago, hands wrapped around the last dregs of his cider, watching in silence as Rhodes—predictably still hungry—pushed back from the table and made his way toward the counter.

She was already totaling up receipts when he reached the register to pay for the entire meal.

“Everything was absolutely delicious, Miss Aura,” he declared as she gave him his change, the deep voice solemn. “Tell me—do you have more of those hand pies? And the scones too?”

Cassia glanced up, arching a brow. “Of course. How many would you like?”

He met her gaze, utterly sincere. “How many do you have?”

She chuckled, head shaking. “Let me pack them up for you.”

While she turned to gather the pastries, he leaned lazily against the counter, casting a glance back at the table. “Caius and Ark will complain that I embarrassed them.” He didn’t sound remotely sorry.

Cassia couldn’t stop a small smile as she tied up the first bundle. She exhaled, knotting the twine with a flick of her wrist, the weight in her chest a little easier to carry.

“You made me feel very appreciated today, Mr. Elios. Thank you.” Her hands stilled briefly over the parchment, her smile softening. “It hadn’t been a good day until you and your friends came in.”

She handed him his carefully wrapped packages and smiled, the day much brighter than it had seemed that morning. Strange. She’d expected exhaustion by now, had braced for it the same way she always did on this day. But instead, she felt . . . present. Less like she was just going through the motions, more like she had actually been here today, in her own skin.

All because a trio of mysterious men had come in and eaten more than half her inventory.

She shook her head, turning back to wipe down the counter just as Ark approached.

“I’m sorry that my friend”—he gestured vaguely toward Rhodes, who was now stuffing his parcels into his coat—“ate all your goods.”

Cassia raised a brow, propping her hip against the counter. “I know you’re pretty much royalty, but do you understand how retail works? You see, I make things, then I hope at some point today, people will come and buy all of them.”

Ark’s expression remained dry, but his eyes glimmered. “I understand how retail works, thank you very much.”

“Good,” she said breezily, finishing her cleaning with a flick of the rag. “Because thanks to you and your friends, I’ll be able to close early today. I’m in for an early night of relaxing on the sofa.”

She smiled as she said it, but her mind was already pulling her toward what that evening would actually look like. The familiar routine came easily: the guilt about taking a night off from Starlight, the quiet of her sitting room, a book she wouldn’t read, a blanket too large for one person. She would cook a meal meant for a family of three and not eat a bite.