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The hushed intimacy of his tone took her breath away while his smile made them both aware that she hadn’t turned down the other options. Before he could change his mind and drag her back into bed, Pearl hurriedly dressed and raced to the kitchen, poking around until Henry trailed after her. She gave his bare chest an accusing look, but he was already busy looking through the cupboards.
“What should we have?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t cook. I don’t know how.”
At that, he raised a brow. “Shouldn’t someone brilliant with mixing and concocting potions also be good at mixing and concocting meals?”
“I know the basics,” she sighed. “I just never took interest in the kitchen stuff. Ruby was a pretty bad cook, too, but boredom after her adventures with pirates had her turning to the kitchen during her free time. With her, Maddox, and sometimes Moon volunteering to cook—and my siblings before that being brilliant at it—I never really had to worry about it.”
“You don’t need to explain. I wasn’t judging. I’m not a good cook, either, just a decent one. I hope you’re okay with that.”
“Decent trumps bad. Do your worst,” she challenged.
She stayed to watch him prepare his ingredients and was taken aback when he didn’t use a single magic trick. At the first taste, her eyes widened.
“You call this decent?”
His brows furrowed. “Is it that bad? I must have regressed after not having cooked in a while.”
“It’s more than decent. It’s a crazy good meal and I’m mad that you can accomplish this with no practice.”
She rolled her eyes when he smirked, then sent him a magic zap when he opened his mouth to brag. Henry settled down with a quiet, smug look as they shared their meal in contentment until their grumbling stomachs filled up. When they were done, she volunteered to clean up and nudged him out of the way.
“That’s cheating,” he commented, eyeing the flying plates.
“It’s called making smart decisions.”
“It’s still cheating.”
“Catch this with your hands, then,” she said and directed a flying plate his way. He ducked, flabbergasted, then used magic to catch it before it crashed to the ground. Pearl gave him a pointed look while he frowned.
“I had an excuse. I didn’t want the plate to break.”
In response, she sent him another one, then another. He caught all of them with magic, then sent them flying back into a neat stack on the drying rack beside the sink. The last one he let fly in her direction, and it startled her so much that she used more energy than usual as she pushed it back toward him. Water splashed everywhere, but more so toward him, drenching him from head to foot. She gasped and cut off her energy immediately.
“Oh, my, I’m so sorry. I only meant to send the plate back and…don’t be mad.”
She took a step back when he strode forward, his expression unreadable. She braced for the scolding when he trapped her and squealed when the water hit her square in the face. A bucketload of it was tossed down her hair after, leaving her sputtering as she looked up at his…smirk.
Oh, it’s on.
It was more water-throwing by then, the kitchen drenched when they were done. They dried it off with magic, too, before he was tossing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing and was carrying her back to bed. She liked to believe she protested, maybe even put up a little fight. But the truth was that Pearl was nothing more than a captive subject to his ministrations, and there was no other place she wanted to be.
They rolled around in bed, trying to get the upper hand while seducing each other. But seduction took a backseat when he kissed her with more fervor and desperation, as if the hunger inside him refused to end. She reciprocated, then surrendered, letting go of all inhibitions. She called out his name when it transformed from fucking to something resembling making love, scaring her at first before she realized there was nothing to be scared of—not when Henry was there to catch her.
“Let go,” he repeated every time she was close. She caught him every time he said “I’m close,” too, until they were so lost in each other that there was no backing out.
At some point, Pearl managed to dissuade him enough to write and compile her reports, which she was excited to present to the Council. Henry left her alone, doing his thing while she holed up in the library, perfecting everything and leaving no detail out. When she was satisfied, she wandered out, her stomach grumbling once more.
“I think I need your wonderful cooking again,” she announced to no one in particular, then went to the office to hunt for Henry. But the room was empty and his paperwork was untouched. “Henry?”
She searched for him in the bedrooms, the kitchen, then the throne room. She searched for Martin, too, and was flabbergasted when she could find neither. Did they go out without telling her? Was this a prank or something? Was the man getting her to cook?
“I already told you. I’m a terrible cook!” she called out.
There was no vocal response, but there was a sliver of recognizable energy that came from another part of the house. She followed it to the back, where she found the garden that he had been talking about, hidden from the common rooms. It was lush with greenery but was mostly unkempt, signaling that neither Henry nor Martin had been taking care of it recently. Pearl bypassed it until she felt the next sliver of energy, taking her to a different back door.
She spotted Verity first, halting her in her tracks. Then her gaze zoned in on Gunther and a few Lyras, most of whom she recognized but never interacted with. Ryan was with John Wheel and a few Council members, and Henry…he was in the center of the throng, facing her with yet another unreadable expression and not meeting her eyes. His head was also down. She had a moment to feel relief that she had dressed in her clothes before trepidation set in, particularly at the harsh look on Gunther’s face.
