Sunlight gently poured into the kitchen through the high windows as Raelynn opened the door. The walk in the garden earlier had been refreshing, though her body was starting to remind her of her recent injuries with every movement. Still, the craving for a homemade burrito had struck her hard, and no amount of reason—or Elion's protests—was going to stop her from indulging in it.
Behind her, Elion followed, his arms crossed over his chest, his sharp eyes narrowing with concern. "Raelynn, I don't understand why you insist on doing this yourself. The maids are perfectly capable of making whatever you want." His voice carried the same smooth authority he always had, but there was a hint of annoyance just underneath.
Raelynn paused, turning to face him with a small, teasing smile. "You'd think someone who claims to know everything about me would remember I used to be a cook at a restaurant before I met you. The kitchen isn't exactly foreign territory for me."
