"Hmmm, I smell something good. What are you preparing, Gen?" Mrs. Eliana's warm voice floated into the kitchen as she stepped in, her eyes lighting up at the sight before her.
Genesis stood by the counter, sleeves rolled up, her hair tied loosely behind her head as she stirred a creamy sauce on the stove. The soft smell of herbs, garlic, and something buttery filled the air. It was the first time Eliana had seen her cooking in the Blackwood mansion and it brought an unspoken warmth to her chest."Seeds and Snakes"
Genesis turned with a shy, cozy smile. "I… it's nothing much. Do.." She stopped herself, catching her breath, then shook her head lightly. "My father wanted something I made, so I decided to make something for both him and Kieran."
Eliana's smile deepened as she moved closer. "You're making something for both of them? How sweet." She peered into the pot, her eyes widening slightly. "Is that… saffron butter rice? And roasted lemon chicken?"
Genesis nodded, a little proud but trying to hide it. "Yes… and a small side of grilled asparagus. My father likes it that way."
Eliana chuckled softly. "You have good hands, Genesis. Not everyone can balance flavors like this. How did you learn to cook something so delicate?"
At that, Genesis's face faltered a little. Her gaze dropped to the spoon in her hand. "Monica… my stepmother," she said quietly. "She made me learn."
Eliana froze for a moment. There was a softness in her eyes, a knowing sympathy. She didn't ask further; the way Genesis's voice dimmed was enough. "Well," she said gently, forcing a smile to keep the air light, "whoever made you learn did the rest of us a favor. It smells divine."
Genesis gave a small nod and smile of gratitude, and Eliana patted her shoulder before leaving the kitchen.
Once alone, Genesis finished plating everything neatly. The warm light from the chandelier reflected off the glass bowls. Humming softly, she wiped her hands on a towel and went upstairs to grab something from her and Knight's room.
The kitchen was quiet, until soft footsteps padded in.
Amelia, her belly round and glowing under a loose dress, followed the smell like a sleepy cat. "Oh, that smells so good," she murmured, sniffing the air. Her cravings had been wild lately. Without hesitation, she found a plate and began serving herself generous portions, spoon after spoon until nearly half the food was gone.
She hummed happily, perched herself on the counter stool, and started eating, sighing in delight after each bite.
Moments later, Genesis returned—her steps faltering as she reached the kitchen doorway. Her soft green eyes widened when she saw Amelia, plate piled high, sauce dripping onto the counter.
"Amelia…" she said gently, walking toward the pot and lifting the lid. Her heart sank a little at the sight, half of it gone.
"You should have asked," Genesis said softly, not angry, just surprised.
Amelia paused mid-bite when she noticed Genesis standing there, but instead of guilt, she just smirked and shoveled another spoonful into her mouth.
"What?" she said flatly, her tone already defensive. "You're looking at me like I did something wrong."
Genesis blinked, trying to stay calm. "You should have asked, Amelia. That food was for my father and Kieran—"
Amelia scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please. Kieran's the one who bought everything in this kitchen, didn't he? So technically, it's his food. And since this—" she patted her belly, "—is his baby, I think I have every right to eat whatever I want."
Genesis froze, her hands gripping the counter. "That's not what I meant."
Amelia ignored her, cutting another large piece of chicken. "Besides, it's not like you'll ever go hungry here. You've got maids, chefs, and a husband who worships the ground you walk on." She smiled, mean and derisive. "You should be thanking me for even liking your food. I could've called the chef to make something better."
Genesis gritted her teeth, her voice trembling . "You could have at least respected the fact that I was making it for them."
Amelia laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "Respect? Sweetheart, don't start talking to me about respect. You think because you're Mrs. Blackwood now, everyone has to bow to you? Let me remind you, you're not the only woman carrying the Blackwood name." She shoved another bite into her mouth. "And certainly not the only one carrying his blood."
The words hit like a slap. Genesis felt her throat tighten, her chest rising and falling. "Amelia…" she whispered warningly, trying to calm herself.
But Amelia didn't stop. "You should relax. Stress isn't good for a wife who's trying so hard to keep her husband sane. Especially when I am the one giving him something you can't."
Genesis's jaw tightened, her fingers trembling against the counter. She took a step forward . "You've said enough, Amelia."
Amelia cautiously leaned away but then immediately donned a smirk, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Oh, did I touch a nerve? Don't worry, princess. I'll leave you to cry into your next pot of soup."
She slid off the stool, brushed past Genesis with a shoulder bump, and left the kitchen without looking back, her laughter echoing down the hallway.
Genesis stood there for a long moment, staring at the half-empty pot, the smell of food now bitter in her nose. Her hands shook as she turned off the stove, her chest heavy but she said nothing.
****
Genesis steadied herself before walking down the hall, her hands balancing the tray she'd carefully prepared. The food still smelled wonderful despite how heavy her heart felt after Amelia's words. She took a deep breath, forcing a small smile onto her lips before pushing open the door to Donald's room.
The older man sat propped against a mountain of pillows, a book resting open on his lap. His face was thinner than before, but his eyes—those sharp, mischievous eyes—still carried the same warmth and mischief they always had when he saw her.
"Ah," Donald said, closing the book with a soft thump. "I was starting to think my daughter-in-law had forgotten me."
Genesis's smile softened, and she moved closer, setting the tray on the small table by his bed. "Never. I just wanted it to be perfect."
Donald leaned forward, taking in the scent wafting from the dishes. "Perfect, she says. Saffron rice, roasted chicken, asparagus…" He inhaled deeply, then looked up at her with a playful squint. "Just because this old man's dying, I get treated like royalty, huh?"
Genesis froze, her heart twisting. "Father, please don't say that," she said quickly, sitting down beside him. "You're not dying."
For a moment, there was silence—then Donald chuckled, low and rough. "Ah, sweetheart, don't look so scared. I was teasing." He reached out, patting her hand. "You always take everything so seriously. It's one of the reasons I like you better than my son."
Genesis let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and smiled faintly. "Kieran might hear you."
"I hope he does," Donald said, grinning. "He might start behaving better. You feed him like this every day?"
Genesis laughed softly. "Only when he deserves it."
Donald took a forkful of the rice, his eyes fluttering shut as he tasted it. "Good heavens, this is incredible. Monica was definitely a devil if she taught you this out of cruelty."
Genesis's laughter faltered for a second, but she kept her tone light. "She was… something."
Donald looked at her for a moment longer, reading the quiet behind her words, then nodded. "Well, whatever she meant for harm, you turned it into something beautiful. That's what strength looks like, Gen."
Her throat tightened, and she lowered her gaze. "Thank you, Father."
He smiled gently. "Now, enough of this serious talk. Hand me that chicken before I forget what happiness tastes like."
Genesis laughed softly again, cutting him a small piece and placing it on his plate. As he ate, she sat beside him quietly, her eyes softening with each content sigh that escaped his lips.
For the first time that day, the bitterness of Amelia's cruelty faded a little, replaced by the warmth of this simple, gentle moment.