Kael strolled down the corridor, his syncwatch reading 11:30.
Back home, that was when lunch would be on the stove. He could almost hear his mother muttering about the afternoon heat while shooing him away from the kitchen table.
The Valery kitchen was tucked away in a quiet bend of the hall, but today it was anything but quiet. Metallic clanks, rushed voices, and the smell of something burning?—spilled into the corridor.
What in the world…
He stepped inside.
"Hey, what is this?" a girl asked, holding up an egg like it was a rare artifact.
"I heard you're supposed to break it, no?"
"Maybe… but—"
"Is this what my servant does every day? Such a sad life," another student muttered from behind the counter, juggling ingredients with all the grace of a street performer.
"I'll use my eyes to cut this," someone declared proudly, slicing an apple with surgical precision.
