Dafne White's POV
We arrive at an enormous kitchen where people are bustling about.
"Everyone is dismissed for a while," the Duke orders.
"You're not going to send everyone away and then burn the kitchen down, are you?" I warn Logan.
His blue eyes narrow in reproach.
"As if you haven't eaten things I've cooked," he retorts, and I shrug.
"You never know when you might poison me," I say, knowing that each of my comments will have its consequences, but I don't care.
"You're quite the wicked one, grumpy," I press my lips together, amused.
"Feel free to use the kitchen as you like. I think cooking will make fighting more fun," he adds. I don't understand why everyone seems to normalize our arguments.
I thought we were putting on a good show.
"Yeah, sure, this will be like being locke
