Sophie's POV

The silence at the royal farm was heavy. I laid on Alaric's chest. It was a long moment.

I could hear his heart beat. Just beneath his tunic. It was steady. A powerful rhythm. His hands stayed on my waist. I saw his golden eyes. It reflected the moon.

Our faces were an inch apart. I felt the heat radiating from him. I scrambled to my feet.

"I'm sorry. I thought you would hit the stone." I said.

Alaric stood up.

He brushed off the soil. His face remained calm. He looked at me. In a way that made my skin tingle.

"It is okay. You tried to catch me from falling." Alaric said.

I looked at my shoes.

I tried to find words.

"I just... I did not want you to get hurt. Especially not over a plant."

"You have a strange way of protecting your King, Sophie." Alaric said.

A small smile touched his lips.

"Most people run from my fall. You threw yourself into it."

"I am a chef. We are used to catching falling things before they shatter." I replied.

A guard stepped from the shadows. He bowed low. He handed a small, sealed note to the King.

Alaric broke the wax. He read the words aloud.

"Grand Prince Magnus wants to dine tomorrow. He is my uncle. He is a man of high standards and low patience." Alaric said.

He looked back at me. His eyes were serious again.

"Go to bed, Sophie. You must be rested. I want you to prepare something nice for me and the Grand Prince in the morning. It must be special. Magnus believes the old ways are the only ways. Show him he is wrong." Alaric commanded.

"I will prepare a meal he will never forget." I promised.

"See that you do. Your position depends on the satisfaction of the crown." Alaric said.

I nodded and left. I walked back to the palace. My mind was already a whirlwind of flavors. I did not sleep.

I sat in my small room. I planned the menu. I needed something traditional. With a taste of the future.

The next morning, I entered the kitchen. The sun was not fully up. The air was cold. It smelled of damp stone. I clapped my hands. I got the attention of the drowsy staff.

"Martha, prep the root vegetables. Silas, stoke the main hearth. We have a Grand Prince to feed. The Alpha King expects perfection!" I shouted.

The kitchen came to life. The sound of knives hitting wooden boards filled the room.

I moved toward the central table. I began assigning tasks.

"Martha, I need these greens washed three times. Silas, watch the temperature of that oven. If it drops, the crust will be soggy." I said.

Chef Damien stepped into my path. He held a large carving knife. He looked at me with a sneer.

"Lady Elara told me to make the food for the King and the Grand Prince. She wants the old recipes. She wants blood and fat. Move aside, ghost." Damien said.

I stood firm. I did not blink. I was tired of being pushed around in my own kitchen.

"The Alpha instructed me personally to prepare something special. I am the Chief Royal Chef by his decree. I will do my job. You can assist me, or you can stay out of my way." I said.

Damien laughed. It was a dry, mocking sound.

"You think a few words from the King make you one of us? You are a girl in a costume. Lady Elara knows the heart of this pack. She gave me her seal to lead this meal." Damien said.

"Then we have a conflict of orders." I replied.

"But since the King's word sits above the Lady's, I am staying at this hearth. Go cook your grease on the side stove if you must."

Damien turned to his station.

He muttered. "We will see who the King prefers. Your strange tricks or my tradition. When the Grand Prince spits out your grass, do not look to me for help."

I ignored him.

I worked for four hours. I prepared a dish of breaded poultry. I used a secret technique from my father. I used ground nuts and dried herbs for the coating.

I fried it until it was golden. It was crunchy on the outside. It was incredibly soft and juicy on the inside.

I began to plate the food. I used white ceramic dishes. I arranged the vegetables with precision.

"It looks beautiful, Sophie." Martha whispered. She leaned in to smell the steam. "I have never seen food look like art."

"It has to be perfect, Martha. Everything is on the line today." I said.

Just then, the heavy doors swung open.

The smell of expensive perfume drowned out the scent of my spices.

Lady Elara walked in. She wore a dress of emerald silk. Morgana followed her like a shadow. Elara saw the two different trays.

"Why are there two different meals being prepared, Damien?" Elara asked. Her voice was like ice.

Damien bowed low.

"Sophie insisted on making her own meal, My Lady. I told her your instructions. I told her the Grand Prince expects the traditional feast of the Blackwood. She refused to listen. She said her way was better."

I wiped my hands on my apron and stepped forward. I kept my voice steady.

"The King told me last night to prepare something special. I am following the Alpha's command." I said.

Morgana moved close to me. She was so close I could see the malice in her eyes.

"Why are you looking at Lady Elara while talking? You lack manners. You are a common servant. Lower your gaze when you speak to your betters." Morgana spat.

"I am not looking at her in any way but a direct one. I am answering a question about the King's dinner." I replied.

Elara stepped into my space. She was taller than me in her heels. She looked down her nose at me.

"You are rude. You have guts for a girl with no family. I have seen many like you come and go through these halls. Those who challenge my authority do not last." Elara said.

"The King gave me this kitchen. He gave me the right to cook for him." I said.

"The King is a man of habits. Habits return to the familiar when the novelty wears off." Elara whispered.

She looked at my tray. She looked at the beautiful plates I had spent all morning creating. A cold smile touched her lips.

"It would be a shame if the King was disappointed." Elara said.

She turned to leave.

She did not walk away slowly. She moved with a sudden, sharp jerk. Her heavy silk dress caught the edge of my tray.

She did not stop. She dragged the metal tray with her.

The sound was a deafening crash.

The plates hit the stone floor. The ceramic shattered into a thousand white teeth.

The poultry, the sauce, and the greens smeared across the dirty floor. My work was a ruin of glass and grease.

"Oh! Look at what you have done!" Elara screamed.

She pointed her finger at the mess.

"You are so clumsy. You placed your tray in the path of a Noble. You have no grace. You have ruined the King's floor with your incompetence."

I stared at the floor. My hands trembled. "You dragged it, My Lady. You pulled the tray down."

"How dare you lie!" Morgana shouted.

"You were careless. You tripped over your own feet because you cannot handle the pressure of a royal kitchen."

Elara looked at the hem of her dress. A small drop of sauce had landed on the green silk. She made a face of pure disgust.

"My dress is stained by your filth." Elara said.

She looked at Morgana.

"Come, Morgana. We must go to my chambers for a change of clothes. I cannot stand the smell of this failure any longer."

"Yes, My Lady. This place is beneath you." Morgana said sarcastically.

They walked out. Their heels clicked on the stone like a countdown.

The kitchen fell into a dead silence.

Then, Martha ran to the mess. She dropped to her knees. Her hands shook as she reached for a piece of broken plate.

Martha shouted. Her voice was high and panicked.

"What do we do? Sophie, look at this! It is all gone! The Alpha and the Grand Prince are at the table now. She destroyed the special meal!"

Elara's POV

I stood in my chambers. Morgana fumbled with the laces of my backup corset. The emerald silk was ruined.

A single drop of that commoner's sauce had dared to touch my skin.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I felt a surge of triumph that tasted better than any wine. I had crushed her.

I had watched her masterpiece shatter into a million jagged pieces on the cold stone floor.

"Did you see her face, Morgana?" I asked.

I smoothed the skirts of my new sapphire gown.

"She looked like a wounded animal. She actually thought her little tricks could withstand me."

"She was pathetic, My Lady." Morgana laughed.

She adjusted my silver hairpins.

"The way she tried to blame you was the best part. As if anyone would believe a ghost over a daughter of the High Pack."

"She is a nuisance." I said.

I looked at my reflection. I looked regal. I looked like a Queen.

"A nuisance that has been handled. Alaric will see Damien's traditional meal. He will remember what real power tastes like. He will forget that girl by the second course."

"We should hurry." Morgana said.

"The Grand Prince is already seated. You must be there to guide the conversation."

I nodded. I swept out of the room. I felt light. I felt invincible.

We entered the Great Hall. Alaric sat at the head of the long oak table. He looked tired. His golden eyes were dim.

To his right sat Grand Prince Magnus. The Prince looked bored. He played with a silver ring on his finger.

"Grand Prince Magnus." I said.

I curtsied low.

"It is an honor to have you at the Blackwood Palace."

"Lady Elara." Magnus said.

His voice was a slow drawl.

"I hear you have taken a personal interest in the menu tonight. I hope the food is as sharp as your reputation."

"I have prepared something truly special for the Alpha." I said.

I sat beside Alaric. I leaned in close to him.

"You've been unwell, Alaric. The fits have been draining your strength. I instructed Damien to prepare a cold chicken dish. It is served with chilled herbs to relax your nerves and cool your blood."

Alaric looked at the silver platter Damien placed before him. He did not look impressed.

"My doctor came to check on me this morning, Elara." Alaric said.

His voice was flat.

"He told me to avoid cold food. He said my internal fire is unstable. Cold food will only cause my muscles to seize again."

The triumph in my chest turned to ice. I felt my face go hot.

I turned to Magnus. I needed a rescue.

"But Alaric." Magnus said.

He coughed into his hand.

"That does not mean you will not eat her food. She put a lot of effort into making this for you. She is a Noble of this court. You should at least have a taste to show your appreciation for her care."

Alaric nodded. He picked up his fork. He looked toward the heavy doors of the hall.

The doors swung open.

I froze.

Sophie walked in. She was not crying. She was not covered in grease. She carried a steaming tray.

Behind her, Martha and Silas followed with extra plates. My hands gripped the edge of the table.

"How?" I whispered.

I looked at Morgana. Morgana looked as if she had seen a ghost.

Sophie reached the table. She looked at me. She did not look afraid. She gave me a look that asked how my plan was working.

It was a look of pure, silent defiance.

"Ah." Alaric said.

His eyes brightened.

The gold seemed to return to his gaze.

"The Chief Royal Chef has arrived."

Magnus leaned forward. He adjusted his spectacles.

"Yes. The ghost chef I have been hearing of. I would love to taste her food. I want to know for sure that she is a genius just as others have testified."

"You will see, Uncle." Alaric said.

He turned to Sophie.

"What have you prepared for us?"

"I have prepared a poultry dish, Your Majesty." Sophie said.

Her voice was clear. It carried through the hall.

"It is crunchy on the outside and extremely soft on the inside. It is served hot from the pan."

"That should be okay." Alaric said.

He looked at the steam rising from her tray.

"I would love to eat this food. I can see the smoke coming from it. It indicates that the ingredients are still alive with heat."

Alaric made a move to start.

He paused.

He waited for his uncle. Magnus looked at me. He saw my frustration. He wanted to be polite.

"I will start with Lady Elara's dish first." Magnus said.

"Out of respect for the tradition."

Alaric followed. They both took a bite of the cold chicken.

"Mmm." Magnus said. He chewed slowly.

"It is delicious, Elara. The herbs are very distinct."

"Yes. It is well made." Alaric added.

I gave Sophie a look of victory. I raised my chin. I told her with my eyes that I would always win. I was the tradition. She was the interloper.

Sophie just rolled her eyes. She looked bored by my posturing.

Then they reached for her plates.

Alaric took a bite.

The sound of the crunch was audible across the room.

He froze. His eyes widened. He chewed slowly. A smile started to spread across his face. He let out a long, deep sound of satisfaction.

"Mmmmmm."

Magnus followed. He took a large bite. He closed his eyes.

"This is exquisite." Alaric said.

"It is soft inside and extremely crunchy outside. I have never felt this sensation in a single bite."

"The sauce." Magnus said. He looked at his plate with confusion.

"The sauce was bitter when it hit my tongue. But when it got to my throat, it became sweet. How is this possible?"

Sophie stepped forward. She did not bow. She stood like an equal.

"The sauce was made from the roots of trees and specific vegetables, Your Highness." Sophie explained.

"It is good for the body. We most times overlook these ingredients because they are difficult to balance. The bitterness cleanses the palate. The sweet finish comes from the natural sugars in the vegetables."

"Two sauces?" Magnus asked. He saw a second small bowl on his tray.

"Yes." Sophie said.

"The other sauce is sweet because it was made from vegetables only. It provides a different experience for the poultry."

Magnus dipped a piece of the crunchy chicken into the sweet sauce. He ate it and laughed.

"You are a genius." Magnus said.

"Alaric, you did not exaggerate. This girl has a gift."

I watched them. I sat there with my sapphire dress and my noble blood. They were eating all of her food. They had pushed my cold chicken to the side. They had only eaten half of mine. They were scraping her plates.

Alaric looked at Sophie. He looked at her with a heat that had nothing to do with the food.

He was looking at her as if she were the only woman in the room. He was looking at her as if she were his Queen.

I felt the rage bubbling in my stomach. It was a hot, stinging poison. I had tried to break her. I had destroyed her work.

But she simply reached into the stores and produced a miracle. She was making me look like a fool in front of the Grand Prince.

"It is just a trick of the tongue." I said. My voice was sharp.

"Traditional food sustains the body. This is just a novelty."

"If this is a novelty Elara, then I am tired of being bored." Magnus said.

He did not even look at me. He was too busy asking Sophie for a second helping.

Sophie looked at me. She saw my anger. She saw the way my nails were digging into the wood of the table. She gave me a small, knowing smile.

I leaned forward. I narrowed my eyes. I didn't care about the Grand Prince anymore. I didn't care about the decorum.

I looked at Sophie. I let all of my hatred show in my gaze.

I will make sure you don't last here.

I said the words with my eyes. I made sure she saw the promise of my fire.

I would not just expel her. I would not just shame her.

I would destroy the very ground she stood on.

Sophie's POV

The Great Hall felt like a pressure cooker. It was ready to blow.

I stood there. I clutched my empty tray. The air hummed with the aftershocks of the meal.

Lady Elara sat frozen. Her were knuckles white. She gripped the edge of the table.

Elara looked at me. Her eyes told me I would burn. I looked back at her. My eyes told her she could do nothing.

In my mind, I spoke to her.

Go ahead and try Elara. You have no idea who you are dealing with. I am a girl from the future. I have seen empires fall. I've seen technology rise. I already know your every move. I will always win.

The plate I served were empty.

Elara stared at the Grand Prince. She wanted him to rule in her favor.

The Grand Prince spoke.

"No doubt." Magnus started.

His voice echoing in the rafters.

"The Chief Royal Chef is talented. This meal was... an experience. However, we must not overlook tradition. Elara captured what tradition truly means. It represents the stability of the Blackwood bloodline."

He looked at Alaric. Alaric was watching me. His gaze felt like molten gold.

"Alaric." Magnus continued.

"it would only be right that you ask the both of them what they want. Grant their wishes. They both worked hard."

Alaric turned his head. A smirk played on his lips. He knew the exact game being played.

"Very well Uncle." Alaric said.

He turned to Elara first.

"Lady Elara, you provided a meal of tradition. What do you want as reward?"

Elara's face softened. She straightened her posture. Her eyes gleamed.

"Your Majesty is too kind." she purred.

"If I must choose... I would like the latest silk materials from the eastern traders. I also desire new gold hairpins. The ones inlaid with rubies. Perhaps a set of matching bracelets."

Alaric smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. It was a cold smile. He knew she loved material things. She can be bought easily.

"The royal jeweler will see to it." Alaric said.

Grand Prince Magnus let out a short laugh. He turned to me. His eyebrows arched in curiosity.

"If she requested these things." Magnus said.

A twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"I am eager to hear what you ask for. Surely a genius like you wants even finer jewels."

Alaric's gaze moved to me.

"And you, Sophie? What is your wish?"

I took a breath. I didn't want silk. I didn't want rubies. I wanted to do my job better than anyone this century had ever seen.

"Your Majesty." I said.

My voice steady.

"My greatest joy is seeing people satisfied. I don't need gold or silk. I want your permission. To go get fresh vegetables. Rare herbs and spices from the east side."

The Grand Prince widened his eyes.

"So... you don't want a new outfit?" He asked.

He sounded genuinely baffled.

"No gold pins?"

Alaric let out a soft chuckle. He looked at Magnus. Then back at me. His expression softened. It made my stomach flip.

"She is different Uncle." Alaric said.

"She is not materialistic. Her mind is always on her craft."

Elara looked absolutely livid.

She was pieced. Her face turned red. She realized my humble request made her look shallow. And vain in comparison.

She couldn't leave. She had to sit there and endure the praise being heaped on a peasant.

"No problem Sophie." the King said.

His voice firm. "You are allowed to travel to the other side of town. You can get the fresh ingredients you need. I will provide a guard for your safety. And Elara, the jeweler will bring you your trinkets."

"We are dismissed." Alaric added.

He waved a hand.

I curtsied and turned. I walked out of the Great Hall as fast as my feet could carry me.

I needed the familiar heat of the kitchen to clear my head.

As I approached the heavy wooden doors. I heard voices. I stopped behind a massive stone pillar. My heart hammered.

It was Cook Silas and Cook Damien.

"You are a fool Damien." Silas was saying.

His voice was hushed but urgent.

"Have you forgotten so quickly? Sophie saved us. The King was ready to have our hands cut off. She stepped in. She took the risk."

"She is a ghost." Damien spat.

Though he sounded less certain than before. "Lady Elara said..."

"Lady Elara doesn't care about you!" Silas hissed.

"She fixed that competition. She was right there. But did she save any of us? No. She left the room. She let us face the King's wrath alone. She would have let them take our hands without blinking. Sophie helped us. You are not supposed to disrespect her like that. She is the reason you can still hold a knife."

I leaned against the cold stone. A lump formed in my throat.

I hadn't realized Silas was this clever. He was advising Damien. He is trying to pull him back. Away from the edge of Elara's influence.

I decided I had heard enough. I stepped out from behind the pillar. I let out a loud forced cough.

Both men jumped nearly a foot into the air. They spun around. Their faces pale as white flour. They looked like they had actually seen a ghost.

"Chef!" Silas squeaked.

He bowed so fast. He nearly hit the table with his forehead.

Damien stood frozen. His eyes darting to the floor. The silence stretched between us. He finally slumped his shoulders.

"I... I apologize Sophie." Damien muttered.

His voice barely audible over the crackle of the hearth. "I was out of line."

I walked over to the center table. I looked him in the eye. I didn't want his fear.

"Apology accepted Damien." I said calmly.

"I don't want your head on a platter. I just want you to help me keep the King fed. That is our only job."

I leaned in a little closer. I lowered my voice.

"I know it was Elara making you do all of it. She uses people until they are broken. Then she discards them. You should choose to be a better person instead. Work with me not against me."

Damien nodded slowly. The tension finally leaving his frame.

Silas breathed a sigh of relief.

I looked toward the kitchen entrance.Elara was standing in the shadows. She was watching.

She didn't say a word. She gave me that look again. The "I will destroy you" look.

I turned back to the stove. The fire reflected in my eyes.

The war wasn't over. It was just getting started.