The cave settled into quieter warmth after their conversation drifted away from herbs and broth, though Nia’s thoughts stubbornly refused to leave either subject alone. The bundles still rested across her lap while the fire crackled steadily nearby, filling the chamber with the same heavy scent of boiled meat and smoke lingering from earlier.
Now that she had actual herbs in front of her, resisting the urge to experiment felt nearly impossible.
Nia rubbed one of the leaves gently between her fingers again before lifting it closer to smell. The scent sharpened once the oils warmed beneath her skin, and her thoughts immediately began moving through combinations before she consciously decided to think about them. Different roots would probably release sweetness differently depending on how they were heated first. Some herbs would need longer cooking to soften bitterness while others would lose flavor entirely if left in the pot too long.
The broth she had eaten earlier still sat heavily in her memory, thick and bland in a way that tasted almost identical from the first swallow to the last. Her mind kept instinctively trying to fix it every time she smelled the fire pit.
And if Kael benefited from that too, she did not exactly mind the idea.
Kael watched her quietly from beside the fire. “You’re planning something.”
Nia glanced up. “That sounded accusatory.”
“You’re looking at the kitchen like it disappointed you personally.”
“It did disappoint me personally.”
Kael’s mouth shifted faintly with amusement.
Nia pointed a leaf at him immediately. “Do not defend your broth.”
“It survived before you arrived.”
“That does not mean it was good.”
His amusement deepened slightly before his attention shifted toward the herbs again.
“You really want to try.”
Nia hesitated only briefly before answering honestly. “Yes.”
Kael studied her quietly for a moment before standing.
Nia looked up. “Where are you going?”
“You’re not reaching half the shelves from there.”
Before she could answer, Kael had already crossed toward the cooking area. He moved through the space with easy familiarity, setting aside unused bowls, shifting containers closer to the fire, and clearing room near the preparation stone without needing instructions first.
Nia watched him for several seconds before narrowing her eyes slightly.
“You reorganized the kitchen suspiciously fast.”
Kael glanced back while moving a heavier clay container closer to the fire pit. “It was inefficient.”
“That answer came too quickly.”
“You were already looking for space to work.”
Nia blinked once because he was right.
Of course he was right.
Kael crouched near the lower shelves afterward and started sorting through the stored ingredients with the same steady focus he seemed to apply to everything else. Roots went beside the preparation stone. Water moved closer to the fire. Bowls stacked within reach instead of scattered across separate shelves.
Nia found herself watching the process more than she intended.
Not because the tasks themselves were complicated, but because Kael approached helping her the same way he approached leadership outside. He noticed what would make things easier and handled it before anyone needed to ask.
“You do that naturally,” she said before thinking too hard about it.
Kael glanced over briefly. “Do what?”
“See problems before people ask for help.”
His expression stayed calm. “Things run smoother that way.”
Once again, he said it without pride, only simple certainty.
Nia looked down at the herbs in her lap while the thought lingered unexpectedly. Kael did not help people in ways that demanded praise afterward. He simply saw what needed doing and folded himself into the work automatically.
That was becoming a problem for her.
Kael finished arranging the cooking space before straightening and looking toward her. “What do you need first?”
The question pulled her attention back.
“Water. Not too much.”
Kael obeyed without hesitation.
Nia watched him pour carefully into the clay pot before shifting slowly off the bedding herself, protecting her ankle automatically as she moved toward the fire pit.
Before she fully reached it, Kael had already moved one of the lower stools closer to the preparation area.
Nia stared at it.
Then at him.
“You prepared the kitchen for an injured person.”
“You’re limping.”
“That continues being your answer for everything.”
“It keeps being relevant.”
Nia muttered something under her breath while sitting anyway.
Kael ignored the complaint entirely and reached for one of the root vegetables nearby. “This too?”
Nia looked up. “You’re helping?”
“You’re cooking.”
The answer arrived with such complete obviousness that she almost laughed.
Of course he was helping.
To Kael, this probably fell naturally under shared work rather than “watching someone cook.”
Nia adjusted one of the herb bundles beside her while thinking through the broth again. “Cut those smaller.”
Kael picked up the knife smoothly. “How small?”
She demonstrated quickly with her fingers.
Kael adjusted immediately without argument.
Most people either ignored instructions while helping or turned simple preparation into a struggle over control of the task. Kael simply listened, adapted, and continued moving without turning cooperation into a contest.
Nia sorted several herbs into separate piles while Kael prepared the roots beside her. The atmosphere inside the cave shifted gradually into something quieter and oddly comfortable as the fire crackled between them and the scent of crushed herbs slowly replaced some of the heavier smell lingering from the earlier broth.
Kael glanced toward the plants in her hands. “You’re treating this more seriously than some hunters treat winter preparation.”
“Flavor is important.”
“You say that like it decides survival.”
Nia rubbed one of the leaves gently between her fingers before answering. “Maybe not survival. But eating the same bland thing every day feels mildly tragic.”
Kael looked thoughtful instead of amused now. “You care about enjoying food.”
“Yes.”
The answer came easily.
Nia looked toward the broth pot while thinking. “Eating should feel good.”
Kael transferred the cut roots into a bowl beside her before reaching automatically for the next group without needing direction.
“We eat for strength first,” he said.
“I noticed.”
“It’s efficient.”
“It’s boring.”
Kael glanced sideways at her. “That sounded deeply offended.”
“It was deeply offended.”
His shoulders shifted slightly before he reached for another root.
Nia noticed by now that Kael laughed more with movement than sound most of the time. Small changes around his posture. Softer eyes. Tiny shifts near his mouth. Everything about him remained restrained except his attention, which never seemed restrained around her at all.
That realization felt increasingly dangerous.
Nia quickly redirected her thoughts back toward the ingredients.
“These roots probably taste sweeter if they’re heated first,” she murmured while sorting through the herb bundles again.
Kael’s attention sharpened. “Before boiling?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Nia searched briefly for words that would explain it properly. “Heat changes things before liquid does. Different flavors come out first depending on how ingredients are treated.”
Kael considered that seriously instead of dismissing it.
“You think food behaves differently depending on process.”
Nia looked up. “Exactly.”
He nodded once. “That makes sense.”
His understanding startled her more than disagreement probably would have.
“You understood that very fast.”
“I hunt.”
Nia blinked.
Kael gestured loosely toward the preparation area. “Meat changes depending on weather, movement, stress, season, how long it rests after a kill, where the fat settles. Fire changes texture too.”
Nia stared at him for a second longer before sighing dramatically. “Why are your hunting comparisons useful?”
Kael looked mildly pleased with himself. “You admitted they were useful.”
“That was temporary weakness.”
“It sounded honest.”
Nia pointed a herb stem at him accusingly. “Do not get confident.”
His amusement lingered quietly while he adjusted the preparation bowls closer to her side before returning to the roots again.
Nia watched the movement automatically.
He moved without wasted effort or unnecessary hovering, simply continuing to make the work easier around her without turning the help into a performance. The realization lingered again, and Nia redirected her attention back toward the broth before her thoughts drifted somewhere embarrassing.
Kael reached for another storage container before frowning slightly. “This one’s cracked.”
Nia looked over.
A thin fracture ran along the lower side of the clay.
“That explains why the grain smells stale,” she murmured automatically.
Kael’s eyes shifted toward her. “You smelled that?”
Nia paused.
Right.
Normal people probably did not identify damaged storage by scent immediately.
She recovered quickly. “Old containers change how food smells.”
Kael studied her face quietly for one long moment.
Then simply nodded once and set the cracked container aside without pressing further.
Relief made it easier to continue the conversation naturally.
Nia really needed to stop almost exposing herself every ten minutes.
“We’ll heat the roots first,” she said while reaching for the pot again. “But not in water.”
Kael frowned slightly. “In fat?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“The flavor changes.”
His attention sharpened with interest instead of skepticism.
Nia found herself smiling faintly despite herself. “That expression means you’re starting to understand why this matters.”
Kael looked down at the roots thoughtfully while adjusting the firewood beneath the pot without needing to be asked. The flames shifted higher.
Then, without another word, he reached for the rendered fat container and set it beside her before moving the herbs closer within easier reach.
Nia stared at the arrangement briefly before looking back at him.
“You really do just solve things automatically.”
Kael glanced toward her while reaching for the knife again. “You noticed late.”
Unfortunately, she had.
Nia narrowed her eyes slightly at him before looking back toward the pot again.
Unfortunately, he was not wrong.
Kael noticed things quickly enough that she sometimes felt a step behind in conversations without realizing it until afterward, which felt deeply unfair because she was usually the observant one.
“Hand me the fat,” she said while reaching toward the preparation stone.
Kael passed the container over immediately.
The rendered fat inside had hardened slightly from the mountain cold, pale near the edges where it clung to the clay. Nia scooped a portion carefully into the warmed pot before leaning closer to inspect the heat.
Still not enough.
“More wood,” she murmured.
Kael adjusted the fire without needing another explanation.
Nia watched the flames strengthen beneath the clay pot before dropping several of the chopped roots into the warming fat. The quiet sizzle that followed made satisfaction curl instinctively through her chest.
Better already.
Kael’s attention sharpened at the sound. “That’s different.”
“Yes.”
Nia stirred the roots carefully with one of the wooden utensils resting nearby while the scent slowly began changing. The heavier smell from the rendered fat softened slightly as warmth pulled sweetness from the roots instead of immediately burying them beneath broth.
Kael leaned slightly closer to the pot.
Nia noticed from the corner of her eye. “You’re investigating.”
“You looked pleased.”
“I was pleased.”
The roots slowly deepened in color while the scent shifted again, richer now, warmer in a way the earlier broth had not been.
Kael’s gaze stayed fixed on the pot. “It smells different already.”
Nia tried not to look too smug about that.
“It’s because the flavor changes before boiling starts.”
Kael considered that while watching her stir. “You’ve done this often.”
The observation landed casually enough that Nia answered without hesitation this time.
“I cooked almost every day.”
Kael looked toward her fully now, attention steady rather than merely curious.
“You studied plants and cooked every day?”
Nia nodded while continuing to stir the pot. “I studied plants formally, but cooking was mostly personal.” A quieter warmth settled through her thoughts, tangled up with old memories of crowded orphanage kitchens, cheap ingredients stretched too far, and the satisfaction of still managing to make something comforting out of very little. “I liked understanding how ingredients worked together.”
Kael listened without interrupting.
Nia found herself continuing naturally beneath that quiet attention. “Different temperatures change flavor. Timing changes texture. Some plants become stronger under heat while others disappear entirely if they cook too long.”
Kael glanced back toward the pot. “Like tracking.”
Nia sighed immediately. “You compare everything to hunting.”
“It keeps being useful.”
“That is unfortunately true.”
Kael’s amusement softened slightly before he reached for the water container beside him. “How much?”
Nia pointed toward the pot. “Half first.”
Kael poured carefully while steam rose upward in soft waves once the liquid hit the heated roots and fat. The scent deepened, carrying warmth and sweetness through the cave instead of the flat heaviness lingering from the earlier broth.
Much better already.
Nia reached for several herbs afterward before pausing to inspect them again. Some would turn bitter if added too early. Others needed longer heat to soften properly.
Kael watched her sort through them with steady focus. “You think before every step.”
“I like understanding what things do.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
Nia glanced sideways at him. “You literally track predators through mountains.”
“That’s relaxing.”
“That is deeply concerning.”
Kael’s amusement flickered softly again while Nia shook her head before adding one of the sharper herbs carefully into the pot. Steam carried the scent upward, cutting cleanly through some of the heavier smell lingering beneath the broth base.
Kael went still for a brief second before leaning slightly closer again.
Nia caught the shift. “What?”
“The smell changed fast.”
She smiled faintly despite herself. “That one releases quickly.”
Kael watched the simmering broth for another moment before looking back toward her. “You really enjoy this.”
Nia paused briefly while stirring the pot.
Then answered honestly.
“Yes.”
The admission came easier than expected.
Cooking had always grounded her. The process required attention but not the exhausting kind people demanded. Ingredients reacted predictably if handled properly. Heat transformed things slowly enough that she could think while working.
After the confusion and disorientation of the last two days, standing beside a cooking fire with herbs in her hands felt strangely stabilizing.
Kael seemed to understand that instinctively.
He stopped speaking afterward, simply continuing to prepare ingredients beside her while the broth simmered between them and the scent of herbs slowly filled more of the cave.
Nia rubbed one of the leaves gently between her fingers again before adding it carefully into the broth. Steam rose afterward, carrying sharper herbal notes through the heavier scent of the simmering roots and rendered fat beneath.
Kael leaned slightly closer to the pot.
“It changed again.”
Nia tried not to look smug about that. “That’s because different herbs release differently depending on heat.”
Kael watched the broth for another moment before looking back toward her. “You know plants well.”
The observation felt straightforward rather than suspicious, so Nia answered just as naturally.
“I studied them.”
Kael’s attention sharpened slightly with interest. “For medicine?”
“Some of it.” Nia stirred the broth slowly while thinking. “Mostly plants themselves. Growth patterns. Preservation. Oils. Reactions. Things like that.”
Her old life rose quietly through her thoughts while she spoke.
University labs.
Greenhouses heavy with humidity.
Rows of labeled specimens beneath artificial light.
Long hours cataloging leaf structures and soil responses while balancing cheap coffee beside stacks of notes.
The memories felt strangely distant now compared to the warmth of the cave around her.
Kael listened with complete focus while she spoke, not interrupting once.
Nia noticed that about him too. When something genuinely interested him, he paid attention with his entire concentration instead of merely waiting for his turn to speak again.
“You liked studying them,” he said eventually.
The certainty in his voice caught her slightly off guard because she had not explicitly said that part aloud.
But she supposed it must have been obvious.
Nia looked back toward the herbs while stirring slowly. “Yes.”
Very much.
Plants had always made sense to her in a way people sometimes did not. Conditions changed outcomes. Attention mattered. Neglect mattered. Small differences built larger reactions over time if someone paid close enough attention.
There was comfort in understanding systems that clearly.
Kael rested one arm loosely against his raised knee while watching her work. “That’s why you keep touching the leaves before using them.”
Nia glanced up. “I’m checking the oils.”
“You do it every time.”
“Because heat changes strength.”
Kael nodded once like that explanation fit neatly into place for him.
Then, without another word, he reached for one of the remaining herb bundles and held it toward her instead of leaving her to lean awkwardly across the preparation space for it.
The movement felt so natural that Nia accepted it automatically before realizing what had happened.
Kael had already started adjusting around her habits.
The realization lingered while she untied the next herb bundle.
“You help very quietly,” she murmured before thinking too hard about the words.
Kael looked mildly confused by the observation. “Would loud helping work better?”
Nia laughed despite herself.
“No.”
“Then quiet helping seems efficient.”
“That answer sounds suspiciously self-satisfied.”
“It sounds correct.”
Unfortunately, it did.
Nia shook her head before returning her attention toward the broth again. The roots had softened further now, releasing deeper sweetness into the liquid while the herbs gradually cut through the heavier richness beneath it.
Much better.
Still simple compared to what she was used to cooking, but now the broth actually changed while tasting instead of remaining one flat note from beginning to end.
Kael watched her inspect the simmering pot. “You look calmer doing this.”
Nia paused briefly before answering.
“I am calmer doing this.”
The honesty surprised her a little.
Maybe because she had not realized it fully herself until now.
Cooking had always grounded her. The process required attention but not the exhausting kind people demanded. Ingredients reacted predictably if handled properly. Heat transformed things slowly enough that she could think while working.
After the confusion and disorientation of the last two days, standing beside a cooking fire with herbs in her hands felt strangely stabilizing.
Kael seemed to understand that instinctively.
He stopped speaking afterward, simply continuing to prepare ingredients beside her while the broth simmered between them and the scent of herbs slowly filled more of the cave.