"You made this?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.
Maison rubbed the back of his neck, an uncharacteristically uncertain gesture that I almost smiled. "I tried. The kitchen staff helped. I'm not exactly... talented in that area. But I think I have found a reason to learn."
I took a tentative spoonful, the familiar flavours washing over me like a memory. It wasn't perfect—the balance of spices was slightly off—but the effort behind it touched something in me that I'd thought long buried.
"It's good," I said softly. "Thank you."
Maison's relief was palpable. He settled back in his chair as I continued eating, watching me with an intensity that should have been uncomfortable but somehow wasn't.
"The Silver Star stories," he said after a moment. "They're yours?"
I nearl
