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The Chronicles of a Fallen Star
Chapter 104, The Last Supper

Chapter 104, The Last Supper

Paola stood in Poca’s kitchen, her tail flicking idly behind her as she surveyed the organized chaos of ingredients strewn across the counter. She had been up to her elbows in the garden earlier, but after the long, reflective walk, she decided to shift gears and try something that might distract her—cooking. Not just any cooking, though. She was going to make pozole. Or, at least, her best approximation of it using the ingredients from Udanara.

The sun was barely past noon, but Paola didn’t care. Pozole was a slow-cooking dish, and if she started now, it’d be perfect by the time everyone was done with their work. The kitchen, however, was proving to be as challenging as everything else in this world. Poca’s "organized chaos" was on full display—jars of herbs and spices stacked haphazardly, strange vegetables spilling out of woven baskets, and roots Paola couldn’t even begin to name. To Paola, it was a mystery how anything ever got cooked in here.

As she rooted through a pile of something that resembled dried corn, she heard the door creak open. Selene stepped in, her mithralite arm dark and dirty, streaked with earth from whatever task she had been working on outside. Despite the grime, Selene moved with her usual grace, her amethyst-marble eyes shimmering faintly as they adjusted to the dim light inside.

“You’re up early for dinner prep,” Selene observed, arching one perfect silver eyebrow. She looked at the array of mismatched ingredients on the counter and then back at Paola with a curious tilt of her head. “What are you trying to make?”

Paola groaned softly, her ears pulling back slightly in frustration. “I’m trying to make pozole. It’s a traditional Mexican dish from Earth—kind of a stew with hominy, meat, chili, and all sorts of seasonings. But, uh... I’m not exactly finding the right ingredients.” She held up a dried kernel of something vaguely corn-like. “This is... almost hominy? Maybe?”

Selene stepped closer, examining the kernel with a critical eye. “That’s izma root. It’s not corn, but it’s used in soups around here. It swells when cooked and gets a similar texture, though it’s a bit... more earthy in flavor.”

Paola sighed in relief. “Close enough. I’ll take it.” She dropped the izma root into the basket of potential ingredients and looked around the kitchen again. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Poca keeps something like pork, would you?”

Selene’s nose wrinkled. “Pork?”

“Yeah, you know, pig... uh, do you have pigs here?”

Selene looked mildly horrified. “We do, but... they’re not really for eating. More like... pets. Or wild nuisances.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “You might want to try jikarra. It’s a wild beast, very fatty, good for slow cooking. You’ll find some of it salted in the pantry.”

Paola blinked at her, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “Jikarra... okay, sure. Why not? That sounds perfect.” She moved toward the pantry, shaking her head. “This world is so weird.”

Selene followed her, casually leaning against the doorframe as Paola rummaged around for the salted meat. “So, you used to be a cook on Earth?” she asked, clearly curious.

Paola shook her head, emerging with a large slab of what she assumed was jikarra. “No, definitely not a cook. Just... someone who cooked occasionally. My actual job was as a paraeducator.”

Selene furrowed her brow, clearly unfamiliar with the term. “Paraeducator? Is that some kind of... warrior class? Like a combat trainer?”

Paola laughed, setting the slab of meat on the counter and grabbing a knife to start slicing. “No, not at all! It’s actually kind of the opposite. I worked in a school, helping students—especially those with special needs—learn. I supported teachers, helped with lessons, guided students through their work, that kind of thing.”

Selene’s eyes widened, and she looked more confused than ever. “So... not a warrior. But you helped people learn? Like... magic? Or combat skills?”

Paola shook her head, chuckling softly. “Nope. Not magic or combat. More like reading, writing, math... basic stuff.” She paused, realizing how strange it must sound in a world like Udanara. “Schools on Earth are a little different. Most kids go through a general education system where they learn a bunch of different subjects. It’s not about training them to be warriors or mages or anything. It’s more about giving them a broad set of skills so they can figure out what they want to do later.”

Selene looked thoughtful, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling as she processed that. “So... you’re saying you trained students in general skills, but didn’t specialize them in anything?”

“Exactly,” Paola nodded, grinning at the perplexed expression on Selene’s face. “It’s kind of like giving them a little taste of everything before they decide what they’re good at or what they want to pursue as a career.”

Selene scratched the back of her neck with her mithralite hand, her face twisted in confusion. “That’s so... broad. In Udanara, we start with general lessons when we’re young, but once someone shows an aptitude for something, we focus on that. Everyone is encouraged to become the best version of themselves—whether that’s a fighter, mage, healer, or scholar. It’s all about honing your talents to their fullest potential. No one’s left... wandering aimlessly.”

Paola chuckled softly. “Well, some people on Earth end up wandering aimlessly for a while. It’s not a perfect system. And even if you find what you’re good at, it doesn’t mean it’s always supported. I mean, look at me—I loved helping kids, but it’s not exactly the most glamorous job, and it doesn’t pay much either.”

Selene’s amethyst eyes darkened slightly as she leaned against the counter. “That sounds frustrating. In Udanara, once you’re good at something, people usually respect it. But then... there’s the problem of what ‘good’ or ‘bad’ really means.” She frowned, her expression growing more serious. “If someone chooses to be ‘bad,’ to harm others or disrupt the balance, we have places for them too. Prisons, yes, but also... rehabilitative training. We try to guide people back to the path that will benefit them and society.”

Paola set the knife down, her hands stilling for a moment as she considered Selene’s words. “So, you’re saying... you guys help people who go astray, but you also decide what’s ‘good’ or ‘bad’ for them? Who makes that decision? Who decides if someone’s on the right path or the wrong one?”

Selene crossed her arms, her mithralite fingers tapping lightly against her skin. “It’s... complicated. The Council of Elders oversees most of it, but the judgment comes from a combination of their wisdom and input from local leaders. Sometimes it’s a magical assessment of a person’s nature. Sometimes it’s more... subjective.” She sighed, looking slightly uncomfortable with the topic. “It’s not perfect either, but it’s what we have. We try to rehabilitate more than punish, but... yeah. It’s hard. And it gets tricky when you start talking about who controls those definitions.”

Paola nodded slowly, picking up the knife again and resuming her work. “It sounds like it’s a lot like Earth in that way. People do their best with the system they have, but it’s not always clear-cut. I mean, people on Earth argue about the same things—what’s right, what’s wrong, who gets to decide. We don’t have magic, but we have laws, politics, and all sorts of systems in place... and none of them are perfect.”

Selene watched her for a moment, then let out a soft laugh, the tension in the air easing slightly. “I guess both our worlds are doing the best they can with what they’ve got.”

Paola grinned, feeling the mood shift. “Exactly. Imperfect, but hey, we make it work. Sort of.”

As Paola continued prepping the ingredients, Selene moved to help her, pulling out strange-looking vegetables and herbs that Paola had no name for but accepted as substitutes. They worked in a quiet rhythm for a while, occasionally exchanging comments about the strange produce and how they might alter the flavor of the dish.

Selene handed Paola a bulbous, purple root, still caked in dirt. “Try this instead of your onions. It’s called ju’kaa. It’s a bit sweeter, but it should blend well with the other spices.”

Paola took it with a grateful nod. “Ju’kaa, huh? Well, it can’t be worse than some of the stuff I’ve tried to make before.” She glanced at Selene with a mischievous smile. “You don’t know it yet, but you’re in for a real treat. This is going to be... something.”

Selene chuckled, her amethyst eyes gleaming with amusement. “I’m looking forward to seeing what ‘something’ looks like.”

They continued working, the lighthearted banter between them helping to ease the weight of Paola’s earlier reflections. As they chopped, stirred, and prepped, Paola found herself relaxing a little more, the numbness from before loosening its grip. Cooking had always been a comfort, a way to ground herself in the here and now. And with Selene’s help, she was starting to feel a bit more at ease in this strange world.

After a while, Paola stepped back from the simmering pot of what she hoped would pass for pozole and wiped her hands on a towel. “Okay, I think we’ve got something here. Now it just needs to cook for... several hours.”

Selene leaned over the pot, inhaling the rich, spicy aroma. “It smells... interesting.”

Paola raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “Interesting? That’s a polite way to put it.”

Selene grinned. “I’m being optimistic.”

Paola laughed, feeling a little lighter than she had earlier. She glanced at Selene, who was casually wiping her mithralite arm with a rag, the sheen of the metal catching the light. “So, what about you? You’ve got to have an interesting job here in Udanara, right?”

Selene shrugged, her tone casual. “I’m a seeker. I travel a lot, looking for lost things... people, artifacts, knowledge. My arm makes it easier to get out of tight spots.”

Selene hesitated for a moment, her amethyst eyes catching the light of the midday sun as it filtered through the kitchen window. Her black horns, curling elegantly back over her head with their cosmic purple tips, gleamed faintly. She glanced at Paola, a half-smile tugging at her lips, but it wasn’t the playful smirk Paola had grown used to seeing. It was something more genuine, more vulnerable.

"Maybe... it’s time I told you the truth," Selene said softly, her voice almost hesitant. "About everything."

Paola, who had been leaning against the counter, paused mid-chop, her tail flicking in mild surprise. The pozole simmered gently on the stove, filling the room with the rich scent of spices and broth, but for a moment, it felt like the world outside that small kitchen fell away. She set the knife down, wiping her hands on a towel and turning to face Selene fully.

"Okay," Paola said quietly, her eyes locking onto Selene’s. "I’m listening."

Selene took a breath, her fingers brushing through her silver hair as if steadying herself before she began. "It started, like it probably did for everyone else, when you fell from the sky. Fallen stars... they don’t go unnoticed in Udanara. Not by the people, and definitely not by the ones like me—seekers, bounty hunters, anyone who’s looking to get ahead."

Paola’s brow furrowed slightly, but she remained silent, sensing that Selene needed to get this out without interruption.

"I was like everyone else. I went snooping around, trying to get information on you. At the time, I just wanted an early drop. You see..." Selene paused, glancing down at her mithralite arm. She lifted it slightly, the dark metal catching the light. "I have a high bounty on my head. I’ve had it for a long time, and I don’t even know how much it’s worth now. But I needed something big, something that could get me out of the mess I was in. So, naturally, I was drawn to the Fallen Stars. To you."

Paola’s tail flicked anxiously behind her as she watched Selene’s face, which had hardened with memories she clearly wasn’t fond of. "Yeah, I remember but I had no idea," Paola said quietly.

Selene gave a short, dry laugh. "Why would you? I wasn’t exactly making it obvious. But I got blindsided. I was taken by Ovochos—you probably remember him, the crime lord you and Ayla attacked back when you were with Thrix."

Paola’s eyes widened. "Ayla told me about that."

Selene nodded. "He had wanted to claim my head, turn me in for the bounty. I was taken to his farm, tied up in one of his barns. I managed to slip away during the chaos, but before I could make it to the river, he caught me. That’s when..." Selene’s voice trailed off as she lifted her mithralite arm again, a deep sadness in her eyes. "That’s when he took my arm."

Paola winced, the weight of Selene’s words settling heavily in the air between them. "But you survived."

"Not by much," Selene admitted, her voice quiet. "I barely made it to the river when it happened. I thought I was done for. But then... Poca found me. She saved me, pulled me from the water, and gave me this arm. She healed me, took care of me, even though she didn’t know me. Even though I didn’t deserve it."

Paola’s gaze softened, but she stayed quiet, waiting for Selene to continue.

"After I was healed, I... I betrayed her," Selene said, her voice strained with guilt. "I stole the Thunderwolf feather from her. It’s a rare and powerful artifact, and I needed something to pay my way out of the mess I was in. The Thieves Guild wanted it, and I thought if I brought it to them, I could buy my freedom. But I never should have taken it from Poca. I still don’t feel like I deserve her forgiveness."

Paola’s heart clenched as she listened. Poca, with her generous and loving nature, had welcomed Selene back without hesitation, but it was clear Selene was still carrying the weight of that betrayal. "Poca forgave you," Paola said softly, her voice full of empathy. "She must’ve seen something in you worth saving."

Selene looked away, her lips pressed into a thin line as she fought to contain the emotions rising in her chest. "Maybe," she whispered. "But that doesn’t erase what I did."

There was a long pause as they both stood in the kitchen, the weight of the conversation settling between them. Paola could hear the soft bubbling of the pozole on the stove, but it felt distant now. Selene seemed on the edge of something else, something more difficult to reveal.

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"I... I haven’t told Poca everything," Selene continued, her voice low. "There’s something else. I made a blood oath with the Thieves Guild."

Paola tilted her head, confused. "What’s a blood oath?"

Selene hesitated, her eyes flicking back to Paola’s, searching her face for any sign of judgment. Finding none, she sighed and continued. "It’s a contract. A very serious one. I swore to split the value of the Thunderwolf feather with the guild. If I didn’t pay up... I’d have to pay in blood."

Paola’s eyes widened in alarm. "Pay in blood? As in—"

"As in they’ll come for me if I don’t fulfill the contract," Selene said, her voice heavy with the weight of the admission. "They won’t stop until either I pay them what I owe or... they take what they think is owed."

The revelation hit Paola hard. She had known Selene was caught up in something dangerous, but she hadn’t realized how deep it went. For a moment, the kitchen felt stifling, the air too thick with tension and unspoken fears.

"And that’s how I ended up hearing about Lady Marcelline wanting to kill Thrix," Selene added quietly. "It was through the guild. That’s what led to all of us meeting in Emberfall. What led to the Sand Pass, the Cathedral of the Leviathan... and now, here."

Paola stood there, absorbing everything Selene had said. Her mind was reeling, trying to process the weight of it all. The betrayal, the blood oath, the danger Selene was in... and yet, throughout it all, Selene had been helping them. Helping her.

After a long pause, Paola finally spoke. "How can I help?"

Selene blinked, clearly taken aback. Her amethyst eyes searched Paola’s face, as if trying to figure out if she had misheard. "Help?" she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Why would you want to help me with this?"

Paola’s tail swished behind her, her ears pulling back slightly. "Why wouldn’t I? You’ve been with us this whole time, even when you didn’t have to be. You’ve helped me... helped us. I’m not just going to stand by and let the Thieves Guild come after you. We’ll figure this out."

Selene’s eyes softened, and for the first time since she had started telling her story, she looked vulnerable. "Paola... you don’t have to do this. I’m not... I’m not asking for anyone to risk themselves because of me."

Paola shook her head, her expression determined. "You didn’t ask. I’m offering. We’re in this together, right? You’re not alone, Selene. I want to help."

For a moment, Selene didn’t respond. She just stared at Paola, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Then, slowly, a small smile crept onto her lips. It was a hesitant smile, but it was real.

"You’re... something else," Selene murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Paola smiled back, her tail flicking playfully behind her. "I get that a lot."

Selene let out a soft laugh, the tension between them easing slightly. She glanced at the pot of pozole on the stove, the rich smell of the broth filling the room again. "Looks like we’ve still got time before this is ready," Selene said, gesturing to the simmering pot. "You want to make some lemonade while we wait?"

Paola’s grin widened. "Now that’s something I can get behind."

As they moved around the kitchen, gathering the ingredients for the lemonade, the heavy conversation from earlier seemed to settle into the background. There was still much to figure out—about the blood oath, about Selene’s past, and about the future—but for now, they had this moment.

As they squeezed lemons and checked on the pozole, Selene opened up more about her journey, filling in the gaps of her story. She told Paola about the harrowing escape from Ovochos’ farm, the near-death experience in the river, and how Poca had found her just in time. She spoke of the guilt she still carried for stealing from Poca, and how she had spent so long running from her past, trying to make things right but never quite feeling like she could.

Through it all, Paola listened, offering her support and understanding in ways that surprised even her. She had spent so much time feeling like she didn’t quite fit in this world, but now, hearing Selene’s story, she realized that maybe none of them truly did. They were all just trying to survive, to make sense of the chaos around them, and sometimes that meant leaning on each other.

As they finished the lemonade and set the table for dinner, Paola glanced over at Selene, who was staring out the window, lost in thought.

"Hey," Paola said softly, drawing Selene’s attention back to her. "We’ll figure this out. You’re not alone anymore."

Selene gave her a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Paola. Really."

Paola nodded, her heart feeling a little lighter despite everything. "You’re welcome. Now, let’s see if this pozole is edible."

Selene chuckled, her eyes brightening just a little. "Here’s hoping. Should we go get Poca and Yasmin?"

"Yeah, we should."

Paola stepped out of the kitchen, her mind a little clearer from the long conversation with Selene. They had talked about a lot—more than Paola had expected—but now that the weight of Selene’s confession was out in the open, Paola could focus. She was still thinking about how they could help Selene, how they could tell Poca, but one thing was clear: she’d let Selene take her time with that.

Poca, ever the generous soul, would probably offer to help the same way Paola had, but she figured Selene would wait. There was a lot to unpack, and forcing things wouldn’t help anyone.

"Ready?" Paola asked, glancing at Selene as they stood at the door.

Selene, still processing, gave a half-smile. "Yeah, let’s go."

They stepped outside, the sun low in the sky, casting long, golden shadows across the land. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of the nearby fields. Paola’s tail flicked behind her, the soft, furry black length swishing lazily as her ears perked up, alert and taking in the peaceful surroundings.

She glanced back at Selene, who had tied her silver-white hair into a loose braid over one shoulder. She wore her usual half-cut sweater, leaving her mithralite arm exposed, and a pair of loose trousers tucked into combat boots. Selene looked a little more relaxed now, though there was still an air of thoughtfulness hanging around her.

They walked toward the small cornfield where Poca and Yasmin were working. As they approached, the sight of Yasmin’s fiery red hair immediately caught Paola’s eye. It flowed down her back in loose waves, with golden undertones shimmering in the sunlight. Her amber eyes glinted brightly, and her large, butterfly-like wings with blazing streaks of orange and yellow almost looked like fire against the backdrop of the sky. Yasmin wore her form-fitting enchanted leather top, the magical flame patterns shimmering along its surface, paired with shorts and thigh-high boots. Her armor had glowing thunderbolt symbols along the edges, a clear indication of her thunder affinity.

Poca, as usual, was comfortably naked, her curvy frame dotted with stitches that ran around her joints and across her skin in delicate patterns. Her deep navy blue hair, almost black, fell in soft waves around her shoulders. Paola’s eyes traveled over Poca’s body, the stains of dirt on her hands and feet telling the story of her hard work in the garden.

They were standing amidst the corn stalks, the golden-green plants swaying gently in the breeze. Poca looked up as Paola and Selene approached, her stitched-on smile broadening as she spotted Paola. Without hesitation, Poca attached herself to Paola’s hip, sliding an arm around her waist. Paola’s tail, almost instinctively, wrapped around Poca’s waist in return, the two of them moving together as naturally as breathing.

"Hey, ma chérie," Poca greeted with that playful tone Paola had grown to love. She leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Paola’s cheek. "Did you make dinner already?"

Paola smiled, feeling the warmth of Poca’s body pressed against her side. "I did, but it’s not ready yet. It’s... well, kind of an experiment. Selene’s been helping me figure out ingredients that are close to what I’m used to."

Poca’s hand slid down Paola’s back, playful as ever. "An experiment, you say? What kind of experiment, hmm?"

"Pozole," Paola replied, her ears flicking slightly. "It’s a traditional dish where I’m from, but, uh... we had to make a few substitutions."

Yasmin, who had been leaning casually against one of the corn stalks, her bright wings twitching occasionally, raised an eyebrow. "Pozole? Sounds fancy."

"It’s not that fancy," Paola chuckled. "It’s basically a stew. But the ingredients here are a little different, so we’re improvising."

Selene, who had been quiet until now, crossed her arms and gave a small shrug. "I tried my best, but Paola’s the one who’s actually cooking it. I’m just here to taste-test."

Yasmin grinned, pushing off from where she stood and dusting off her shorts. "Well, I’m down for some food, especially if it’s something new. We’ll see if you Earth girls can cook."

Poca, meanwhile, clung to Paola’s side, her body warm and soft against her. She gave Paola a teasing look, her stitched-on smile somehow managing to look mischievous. "I’m sure it’ll be delicious, no matter what. After all, mon amour made it."

Paola felt a flutter in her chest, though she tried to play it off with a smirk. "You’re biased."

"Of course I am," Poca said, leaning in to brush her lips against Paola’s. "But I’m also right."

As they made their way back to the house, Poca remained glued to Paola’s side, her arm draped over Paola’s shoulder. Paola’s tail stayed wrapped around Poca’s waist, the two of them moving in sync, their footsteps soft on the dusty path leading from the garden back to the house. Selene walked alongside them, her silver-white braid swinging gently with each step, while Yasmin, always full of energy, took the lead, her fiery wings flaring behind her.

The walk was peaceful, and for the first time in a while, Paola felt like she could breathe. Her thoughts weren’t racing as much, the overwhelming weight of everything—her role as a Fallen Star, the strange new world of Udanara, her relationships with Ayla and Poca—felt a little more manageable. Maybe it was the calming presence of Poca, or the fact that Selene had finally shared her story. Whatever it was, Paola was glad for the moment of clarity.

As they reached the house, the smell of the pozole greeted them, rich and comforting. Paola stepped inside first, pulling Poca along with her, her tail still wrapped loosely around Poca’s waist. Yasmin, eager as ever, bounded over to the table, her wings fluttering slightly as she peeked into the pot.

"Smells good," she announced, grinning over her shoulder at Paola. "You might just impress me yet."

Paola rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her lips. "Just sit down. It’s almost ready."

Poca slipped away from Paola’s side, moving to grab some bowls from the shelf. Her naked frame moved gracefully through the room, and Paola couldn’t help but admire the way Poca’s stitches traced her body, adding to the strange, doll-like beauty she possessed.

Selene, meanwhile, leaned against the counter, her mithralite arm resting casually at her side. She glanced at Paola, a small smile playing on her lips. "Think it’ll turn out okay?"

Paola shrugged, though there was a glint of determination in her eyes. "It better. I put a lot of work into it."

With the table set and the bowls of pozole ladled out, the four of them sat down around the small wooden table. Paola took a deep breath as she watched her friends, her tail swishing lazily behind her. Poca sat beside her, one hand resting on Paola’s knee under the table, her stitched-on smile ever-present. Yasmin, across from them, eagerly spooned some pozole into her mouth, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders as she leaned forward.

Selene, seated next to Yasmin, gave Paola an encouraging nod before taking her own bite.

For a moment, there was silence as everyone tasted the food. Paola held her breath, waiting for some kind of reaction.

Yasmin was the first to speak, her eyes wide. "Holy hell, this is actually good!"

Paola let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, her ears flicking in relief. "Really?"

Poca leaned over, pressing a kiss to Paola’s cheek. "It’s delicious, ma chérie."

Selene, who had been eating quietly, nodded in agreement. "You did good, Paola."

Paola grinned, feeling a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the pozole. "Thanks, guys. I wasn’t sure if it would turn out."

Yasmin, always the joker, leaned back in her chair with a dramatic sigh. "You know, I think I could get used to this. Maybe we should just let Paola do all the cooking from now on."

Paola raised an eyebrow, her tail flicking in amusement. "Oh, is that so? You think I’m going to cook for you every day now?"

Yasmin smirked, her wings fluttering behind her. "Hey, I’m just saying... you’ve got skills."

Poca, ever the playful one, leaned in close to Paola, her lips brushing against Paola’s ear. "Don’t worry, mon amour. I’ll help keep Yasmin in line."

Paola chuckled, shaking her head. "Thanks, but I think Yasmin’s a lost cause."

The table erupted into laughter, the tension from earlier in the day melting away as the four of them enjoyed the meal. Paola felt a sense of peace settle over her, the warmth of her friends and the comfort of the food making everything feel a little lighter.

As they finished eating, Yasmin leaned back in her chair, her wings fluttering slightly, a satisfied grin spreading across her face as she scooped up the last bite of pozole from her bowl. “Well, I’ve got to admit, Earth girls can cook.” She shot Paola a teasing look. “I wasn’t expecting this to be so good. I thought you might’ve been bluffing.”

Paola snorted, leaning forward with a smirk. “Oh, please. You’re only being nice so you can score more food later. I know your tricks.”

Yasmin shrugged, her fiery hair catching the light. “Maybe. But can you blame me? I’ve got to keep my energy up, you know, with all the magical explosions I have to manage. This could be my new fuel.”

Poca, who had been quietly savoring her bowl, gave Paola’s thigh a playful squeeze under the table, her stitched-on smile widening. “Don’t worry, ma chérie. Even if Yasmin is using you for your cooking skills, I will still appreciate your food... and everything else.” She winked, her fingers brushing Paola’s leg.

Paola grinned, leaning in closer to Poca. “Oh, I don’t mind being used, as long as you’re involved.”

The words slipped out before Paola could fully process them, and for a second, she didn’t think much of it. Then she noticed the way Poca’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of purple, her signature blush spreading across her blue skin. Paola’s eyes widened, her face heating up as she realized the implication of what she had just said.

“Wait, no!” Paola quickly backtracked, laughing nervously as she held up her hands. “I meant, like, in the kitchen! For cooking, not... wherever your mind is going, you little freak.”

Poca’s flush deepened, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress her laughter. “I can’t help it, mon amour,” she teased, her stitched-on smile looking all the more playful. “You do have that effect on me.”

Yasmin snorted, shaking her head. “Ugh, you two. I’m trying to eat here, not watch your weird flirting ritual.”

Paola playfully swatted at Yasmin’s arm. “You started it! And you’re just jealous because you don’t have someone appreciating your cooking.”

Yasmin raised an eyebrow, grinning mischievously. “I appreciate your cooking just fine, but let’s not pretend you wouldn’t cook for me too if I asked nicely.” Yasmin pouted and made an attempt at puppy dog eyes, though her fiery red hair and amber eyes didn’t exactly give off the innocent look she was going for.

Paola rolled her eyes, though there was amusement in her expression. “You’ve got a point, but don’t push your luck.”

Selene, who had been quietly observing the whole exchange with a bemused smile, chimed in, her amethyst eyes glinting. “Well, if I’m going to keep helping you find the right ingredients, I might be expecting a few meals in return too.”

Paola chuckled. “Great. Now I’ve got a whole house of freeloaders. Next thing I know, you’ll all be lining up for breakfast tomorrow.”

Poca, still blushing but grinning, rested her head on Paola’s shoulder. “If it’s anything like tonight’s dinner, I wouldn’t mind. Though... tomorrow, we’ll have more important things to focus on, no?”

Paola’s ears perked up, and her playful expression sobered slightly. She knew what Poca was referring to. The Festival of Breath was coming up in two days, and tomorrow they would have to head back into Valarian to prepare. It was a big event, one she had heard bits and pieces about, but there was still a lot to do. And a lot to worry about.

“Yeah,” Paola said softly, her gaze flicking between the women around her. “We’ve got to head back tomorrow. The festival’s the day after, and there’s a lot we need to sort out.”

Yasmin stretched her arms behind her head, her wings fluttering. “Right. Time to switch gears and focus on business. The Festival of Breath isn’t exactly going to be a picnic. There’s always something that goes wrong.”

Selene nodded, her expression more serious now. “We’ll need to stay sharp. A lot of people will be there, and that means more opportunities for... complications.”

Poca leaned into Paola a little more, her playful demeanor fading into something softer, more supportive. “We’ll be ready, ma chérie. No matter what happens, we’ve got each other.”

Paola glanced around the table, feeling the weight of their words settle over her. The playful banter had been a nice distraction, but the reality of what they were heading into was never far from her mind. Still, there was comfort in knowing she wasn’t facing it alone.

“Yeah,” Paola agreed, her voice steady. “We’ll handle whatever comes our way.”

As the conversation shifted to their plans for the next day, the mood around the table remained light, but the underlying tension was there. They all knew the stakes, and they all knew what was at risk. But for now, in this moment, they could still laugh, still joke around, and enjoy the meal Paola had worked so hard to make.

“Well,” Yasmin said, standing up and stretching, her fiery hair cascading down her back, “if tomorrow’s going to be as crazy as we think it is, I’d better get some rest. And Paola, I expect breakfast to be just as good as dinner.”

Paola threw a piece of bread at her, laughing. “Go to bed, Yasmin. We’ll see about breakfast.”

As the group slowly dispersed, Poca stayed close to Paola, her arm wrapped around her waist as they made their way toward their shared room. Paola’s heart felt lighter now, even with everything ahead of them. She glanced at Poca, who smiled up at her with that stitched-on grin, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Tomorrow will be fine,” Poca said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Paola’s temple. “We’ve got this.”

Paola nodded, her tail swishing behind her. “Yeah, we do.”

And for the first time in a while, Paola believed it.