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She bit down on her lip, struggling to riddle out his plan as she perched on a stool. “Zia’s okay with that?”
“Zia’s Vozarian husband fought at Roan’s Wake. He had no training beyond cooking, but Sardoth didn’t take profession into consideration when he drafted his armies. Zia doesn’t want Fen lacking in defensive skills.” Renton shrugged. “Anyway, the Embassy doesn’t just employ assassins. Fen wants to invent weapon tech for them.”
“That’s incredible. I wish we would have trained our staff in combat.” She rubbed at the markings on her hands.
Renton nodded and continued his methodical work. She wondered if cooking was therapeutic for him, eyes glued to his hands as he minced an onion with efficient swipes of a knife and tossed them into a pan with oil.
Cheeks heating, she dared ask, “Is that how you won over Zia? Teaching her son how to fight?”
His eyes flicked up to her briefly. A smirk played on his lips as he turned away to season the cooking onions with a jar of brown powder. The rich fragrance that filled the kitchen made her mouth water.
“That, and rare spices from the Abyss. No need to look so worried, Tenah. I’m set on you and you alone.”
Her chin dropped.
Renton chuckled. “What?”
Shaking off his comment, because shecould notgo there, she motioned a hand at his hulking form. “You’re kind of a sweetheart under all that, you know.”
“I can honestly say I’ve never been called that before. Many other things, yes. But not that.”
“How often do you let others close enough to see this side of you?”
He tossed a towel over his shoulder. “Fair enough.”
Moving back to the prep table, he crumbled up rye bread and soaked it in cream before mixing it with ground beef and the seasoned onions. “Care to help?”
“If you need heat, I’m your woman.” A spark of flame crackled between her fingers. “For everything else?” She frowned, her flame turning to soft curls of smoke.
“Lucky for you, I have an open position for someone of your caliber.” He grinned, motioning to the waning flame on the stove beneath the pan. “Light me up, angel.”
Cheeks flushing, she did as he asked then returned to watching him form perfect meatballs with the same hands she’d witnessed cleaving through monsters. She was beginning to treasure these little glimpses of the personality hidden beneath the mask of the soulless hunter. Renton put care into everything he did.
It wasn’t long until he slid a plate in front of her. Meatballs and sautéed green beans drizzled in the most heavenly glaze Tenah had ever tasted.
“So much flavor,” she mumbled around a mouthful. “You cook like Mel. She was always my favorite.”
“Is this what it takes to win you over?” His bright eyes glinted with mischief.
She nodded. “That’s how Mire should train their hunters. Lure the prey in with the scent of a well-cooked meal. Though, I require dessert too.”
He considered this. “Can’t say I’ve ever made one. I’ll learn for you.”
Leaning over the table, he snatched the bite off her fork with his mouth. Heat pooled low in her body at his sudden closeness.
When her plate had been scraped clean, his mood pivoted. “The temple in the Void. What is it? Can you show me?”
Fear slammed into her. “Not with that thing inside of you. If he found out or Chaos detected it—”
Renton stilled. “He? Tenah, I would like for you to explain exactly what happened that night in the manor.”
She lowered her head and gripped the edge of her stool. “You would think less of me if I told you.”
“Your father mentioned Cirel had some sort of connection to you. Is he speaking with you in the Void?”
Her bones chilled, his words detonating like bolts of magic against her chest. She lowered her cheek to the counter. Could it be? She’d never seen a depiction of Adra’s king. It seemed outrageous that he would waste time crossing the Void just to meet with her. Didn’t he have a war to plot?
But her father considered Cirel his greatest rival. Would it be so farfetched that Adra’s king would try to use her against him, especially with her ability to create rifts?
