The secret hallways were dark, narrow, and smelled of dust and old stone. Elara stayed deep inside Kaelen's enormous cloak, her feet shuffling to keep up with his long, angry strides.
He was clearly furious. He, the Emperor, was personally sneaking a hostage into his royal kitchen. It was... undignified.
Elara, on the other hand, was on a mission. She was a woman fueled by hunger and a desperate need for carbohydrates. She was unstoppable.
They reached a heavy wooden door at the end of a service tunnel. Kaelen pushed it open, and they were immediately hit by a wall of heat, noise, and smells.
The royal kitchen was a cavernous room, a chaotic symphony of shouting cooks, clanging pots, and sizzling meat. Dozens of people ran back and forth, carrying massive slabs of lamb, baskets of vegetables, and sacks of grain.
The second Kaelen stepped over the threshold, the chaos stopped.
It was absolute. A cook in the middle of chopping an onion froze, his knife in mid-air. A servant carrying a stack of plates wobbled and stood perfectly still. The only sound was the crackle of the dozen fires.
"Your Majesty!" a large, sweating man in a (once-white) apron stammered, throwing himself onto the floor. This was clearly the Head Chef.
"Get up," Kaelen snapped. "You will not look at me."
The chef got up, his eyes fixed firmly on the stone floor.
Kaelen pointed his thumb back at Elara, who was just a lump of dark wool behind him.
"This... person... requires ingredients. You will provide them. You will not speak. You will not watch. And if I ever hear a whisper that anyone saw anything... I will feed your entire family to the pigs. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Your Majesty! Crystal, Your Majesty!" the chef squeaked.
"Good," Kaelen said. He turned to the dark lump of cloak. "What."
Elara, hidden in the folds, felt a thrill. This was her element. She stepped forward, a small, cloaked gremlin, and surveyed her domain.
She whispered from inside the hood, her voice just loud enough for Kaelen to hear. "I need... flour. Eggs. Salt. And a bowl."
Kaelen relayed this, his voice booming. "Flour! Eggs! Salt! A bowl! Now!"
The kitchen staff scrambled, moving with the speed of pure terror. Ingredients appeared instantly.
Elara found a clean corner of a massive wooden table and began to work, her hands moving with practiced ease. She was still hidden by the cloak, so all the staff could see was a pile of dark wool mysteriously kneading dough.
"Bones," she whispered next. "Beef or chicken. And a pot. A big pot."
Kaelen sighed. "Bones! A pot! Not the pig slop! The good bones!"
A pot was brought. Soon, a rich, savory smell began to fill the air, cutting through the heavy scent of roasted mutton. It was the smell of herbs, vegetables, and real, simmering broth.
The kitchen staff, who were all trying very hard not to look, started to sniff the air. Their fear was suddenly competing with a new, strange feeling... curiosity. And hunger.
Grumble-rumble-gurgle.
A few stomachs in the kitchen began to betray their owners.
Elara, meanwhile, was rolling out her dough. She grabbed a large knife.
KPrealen's hand shot out and gripped her wrist. "What are you doing?" he hissed, thinking she was arming herself.
"I'm making the noodles," she hissed back. "Calm down, your highness."
She expertly sliced the dough into long, thin strips. She tossed them, boiled them, and prepared two large, empty bowls.
The kitchen was now filled with the single most divine aroma it had ever known. It was salty, savory, rich, and warm. It smelled like home.
Kaelen stood beside her, his arms crossed, trying to look intimidating. He was breathing the steam in. His expression was stone, but his nostrils were flaring.
GRRROWWLLLL.
It was a low, deep, angry sound. It came not from Elara, and not from the kitchen staff.
Elara paused, her ladle in mid-air. She looked up. Kaelen was staring at his own stomach in disgust, as if it had just sworn at him.
She smiled, a tiny, secret smile, and kept working.
She poured the steaming broth over the fresh, tender noodles. She added slices of beef she had found, and the few green herbs the kitchen had. Two perfect, steaming bowls of proto-ramen.
"Done," she whispered.
Kaelen grabbed both bowls. "You. Corner."
He marched her to a small, dark stool in the shadows, away from the staff. He handed her one bowl. He kept the other, but he did not sit. He stood over her, his arms crossed, his face a mask of royal disapproval. He would not be eating this... string-soup.
Elara didn't care. She was so hungry she could cry. She blew on the steam, lifted the noodles, and took her first bite.
It was heaven.
The noodles were tender. The broth was hot, salty, and rich. It wasn't the instant ramen from her old life, but it was real. It was the best thing she had ever eaten.
"Oh, thank god," she moaned, her eyes closing in pure bliss. She took another huge slurp, completely ignoring the king of the world standing two feet away.
Kaelen watched her. He watched the pure, unguarded pleasure on her face. He smelled the steam rising from the bowl in his own hands.
His stomach growled again. This time, it was a command.
With an annoyed huff, he gave in.
He took a small, hesitant sip.
His face didn't change. He was a master of control. But his eyes... his golden eyes... widened just a fraction.
He took a bite of the noodles.
He chewed.
And then... he ate.
It was not a kingly, polite tasting. It was a full-scale, focused, demolition. In the quiet corner of the kitchen, the only sound was the Emperor of the Ashurian Empire slurping noodles like he hadn't eaten in a week.
One. Two. Three. Four massive bites. The entire bowl was gone in less than a minute.
Elara just stared, her own bowl halfway to her mouth.
Kaelen put the empty bowl down with a loud clack. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at Elara, his face completely serious, as if nothing had happened.
He cleared his throat.
"Next time," he said, his voice a low growl. "More... noodles."