Chapter 354: Three Women, One Shirtless Guy, and a Burnt Egg

The next one was not better.

Somehow, through methods that defied the laws of thermodynamics, she managed to produce an egg that was simultaneously burnt black on the outside and completely raw in the center. She hadn’t even known that was possible. It should not have been possible. And yet here it was, sitting in her pan like a monument to her culinary incompetence.

"How..." she whispered, staring at the abomination. "How did I do this?"

Third attempt. Third egg. She was going to get this right if it killed her.

She added oil this time. Set the heat to medium instead of high. Cracked the egg with careful hands.

Perfect. The egg sizzled happily in the pan. The white began to set. The yolk remained gloriously intact. This was it. This was the one.

Emi reached for the spatula, eyes fixed on her masterpiece, and her elbow knocked over the bottle of cooking oil.

The oil hit the burner.

The pan erupted in flames.

"AHHHHHH!"

She grabbed the pan handle without thinking, yanking it off the heat. This did not, unfortunately, put out the fire. It just meant she was now holding a flaming pan in her bare hands while smoke billowed toward the ceiling.

"FIRE! FIRE! FIREFIREFIREFIRE!"

The door to Satori’s room banged open. He emerged wearing only a pair of sweatpants, his hair even more disheveled than before, his expression caught somewhere between concern and amusement.

He took in the scene. Emi in his egg-stained shirt. The charred remains of multiple breakfast attempts. The flames still licking at the edges of the pan.

"Emi." His voice was remarkably calm. "What are you doing?"

"MAKING YOU BREAKFAST WITH LOVE!"

"The love is on fire."

"I KNOW!"

Satori walked over, calmly took the pan from her hands, and dropped it in the sink. He turned on the faucet. The flames hissed and died in a cloud of steam.

The smoke alarm chose that moment to start screaming.

"I’m so sorry," Emi wailed, her eyes filling with tears. "I just wanted to do something nice for you and I ruined it and now the kitchen is destroyed and you probably think I’m an idiot and..."

Satori silenced her with a kiss.

It was brief but firm, enough to derail her spiral of self-recrimination. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright with suppressed laughter.

"Emi."

"What?"

"It’s fine."

"But..."

"I’ve survived dungeons, assassins, and Natalia’s jealousy. I can survive burnt eggs."

She sniffled. "Really?"

"Really."

The kitchen door swung open again.

Natalia stood in the doorway, still dressed in her sleepwear, a silk nightgown that probably cost more than Emi’s entire wardrobe. Her purple eyes swept the room, cataloging every detail. The smoke. The charred pan. Emi in Satori’s shirt with egg in her hair. Satori shirtless with his arm around Emi’s waist.

The silence lasted approximately three seconds. It felt like three centuries.

"I see the initiation went well." Natalia’s voice carried no discernible emotion.

Emi’s brain short-circuited. Her mouth opened and closed several times before sound emerged.

"I... I can explain..."

"Explanation unnecessary." Natalia walked past them to the coffee maker with the unhurried grace of a predator who knew exactly where her prey would be when she was ready for it. She retrieved a mug from the cabinet. Poured herself a cup. Added exactly one sugar cube.

Emi stood frozen, waiting for the explosion. For the screaming. For the ice spikes to the face.

Instead, Natalia turned back to face her, took a long sip of coffee, and said: "Welcome to the court, Healer."

"The... the court?"

"You didn’t think you were the only one, did you?"

Emi’s gaze darted to Satori. He offered no help, just watched the interaction with the expression of a man enjoying a show.

"I mean... I knew about..." She gestured vaguely between Natalia and Satori. "About you two. And I suspected maybe Skylar..."

"Good. Then we don’t need to have that conversation." Natalia set her coffee cup down with a soft clink. Her purple eyes locked onto Emi’s with an intensity that made her knees weak for entirely different reasons than Satori’s gaze did. "The hierarchy is simple. I am first. Always. As long as you understand that, we won’t have problems."

Emi swallowed hard. "Understood."

"Good." Something shifted in Natalia’s expression. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was close. Maybe a smile’s second cousin. "I’m glad it was my best friend."

And then she was gone, disappearing back down the hallway with her coffee in hand, leaving behind only the faint scent of expensive perfume and barely contained power.

Emi released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

"Did... did she just give me permission?"

"She gave you a warning," Satori corrected. "The permission was already mine to give."

"Oh." Emi processed this. Her brain took a sharp left turn. "That’s... that’s actually kind of hot?"

Satori snorted. "Don’t tell her that. Her ego doesn’t need the boost."

They cleaned up the kitchen together. Satori handled the dishes while Emi wiped down the counters, both of them moving around each other with an ease that felt almost domestic. Normal. Like they’d been doing this forever instead of just one morning.

"So what happens now?" Emi asked, rinsing egg residue from a spatula.

"Now? Breakfast that isn’t a fire hazard. Then training. Then figuring out who’s trying to kill me this week."

"The usual, then."

"The usual."

Emi laughed. The sound bubbled up from somewhere deep in her chest, pure and bright and utterly uncontained. She was standing in a kitchen she’d nearly destroyed, wearing a shirt stained with her failed breakfast attempts, her hair a disaster zone and her body still marked with evidence of last night’s activities. And somehow, impossibly, she’d never been happier.

A figure appeared in the doorway.

Skylar leaned against the frame, her indigo hair tousled from sleep, her violet eyes moving slowly from Emi to Satori and back again. Her expression gave nothing away.

"Welcome to the club, sunshine." A knife materialized in her hand, twirling between her fingers with casual expertise. "Don’t worry. It only hurts for the first..." She paused, seeming to reconsider. "Actually, it always hurts." Her lips curved into something that might have been a grin. "But you learn to like it."

She vanished before Emi could formulate a response.

"She’s terrifying," Emi whispered.

"She grows on you."

"Like a fungus?"

Satori’s laugh echoed through the kitchen. "Exactly like a fungus."

Emi looked around at the semi-clean kitchen, at the boy she loved, at the strange new life she’d somehow stumbled into. Two of the most dangerous women in the academy had just acknowledged her place in Satori’s life. She’d destroyed breakfast. She was covered in egg. And somewhere in the dormitory, Skylar was probably planning elaborate ways to test her worthiness.

It was going to be a weird day.

But as Satori pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead, Emi decided she wouldn’t have it any other way.