To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 124

Chapter 124

ATASHA’S POV

Sveuches

The pot in front of me hissed as the stew bubbled, the thick scent of herbs and meat filling the small room until it clung to my clothes and hair. I stirred it slowly, watching the steam curl upward, my hands busy even though my body begged for rest. The warmth from the fire pressed against my face, and for once, the task of cooking was enough to keep my thoughts quiet.

“As expected, the Matron didn’t leave,” Grace reported from behind me. I hadn’t heard her come in.

I didn’t answer right away, too focused on keeping the stew from burning at the edges.

Grace paused, then added carefully, “Shouldn’t you be resting by now? You spent the entire night at the infirmary. If the Lord found out-”

“He wouldn’t,” I cut in, turning just enough to glare at her.

She stopped mid–step, surprised. It was probably the first time she’d seen me do something so unlike the obedient role I usually played.

But I didn’t even have the time to decide what Grace might think of me. The spoon shook a little in my hand as I stirred, and the smell of stew clung thick in the air, making my nerves worse.

“May I know what you are doing?” Grace finally asked.

I froze, my back stiff. For a moment, I thought about brushing her off, but the words pressed at my tongue until I had to let them out. Slowly, I turned toward her. She looked just as confused as I felt.

“I… I’m making food,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. My cheeks burned instantly, and hearing myself say it out loud only made me wince. “For Lord Cassian.”

For the goddess’s sake, why was I acting like this was some grand confession? It wasn’t the first time I’d done something for him, yet my heart was pounding as if I’d just crossed a line I couldn’t take back.

Grace blinked, clearly trying to process it, and that only made my chest squeeze tighter. I dropped my gaze to the floor, clutching the spoon a little too hard. “Do you think he would mind?” I asked, the question spilling out before I could stop it. Even saying it out loud was enough to make my face burn.

Grace didn’t say anything. She just stared at me, speechless.

Panicking, I rushed to explain. “It’s not… it’s not strange. He gave me something first.” My words tumbled out too fast. “Sweets. Something to replenish strength. Mendez made them for him, but he gave them to me instead. So I thought… I thought I should cook him something in return. A warm meal.”

The longer I talked, the stranger Grace’s expression became. Her brows drew together, her lips pressed tight as if she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or scold me.

My face burned hotter. “Maybe it’s a bad idea, right? Maybe he won’t even eat it. I’m not as good as the cooks who usually prepare his meals-”

12:23 Tue, Sep 30

Chapter 124

“Lady Atasha.” Grace cut me off, her hands suddenly firm on my shoulders. “Calm down.”

1 blinked, startled.

She gave a single nod.

I swallowed hard and nodded back. “Right. I should calm down.”

“Good,” Grace said. Her tone softened. “Now, what are you cooking?”

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“Meat stew,” I answered, shifting awkwardly under her gaze. “It’s something from the South. There’s an abundance of meat there. Since it’s rarer here, I asked Rio to get some for me. I used my ability to draw out the poison first, then… I cooked it.”

Grace leaned slightly to glance at the pot, then gave a small approving nod. “It smells good. And it looks good. The Lord will surely be happy.”

I pressed my lips together, unsure if I believed her. My eyes dropped back to the stew, bubbling steadily, steam rising into the air. The smell clung to my hands, to my hair.

I thought about Cassian’s expression, how hard it was to read, how easily he could dismiss something without a word. Would he even taste it? Or would he look at it the way he looked at most things, as though weighing its worth before deciding if it mattered?

The spoon trembled in my hand again, and I had to set it down before I spilled the stew all over the fire. My chest felt tight, my palms damp, but I forced myself to breathe.

This wasn’t just some foolish whim. Cassian had saved me more times than I could count. He had cared enough to give me the sweets, to notice when I was too exhausted to stand. It was only right that I return that gesture, even if my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

But even as I thought it, the reasoning sounded weak, almost nonsense. Was I really standing here, sweating over a pot, just because of a pouch of sweets? Was I only trying to convince myself that this was enough of a reason to cook for him?

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

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