CHAPTER 17
In the royal kitchen courtyard—temporarily transformed into a cooking arena—two tables stood at opposite ends, each stacked with fresh ingredients, pots, and knives gleaming under the daylight.
At the judging table, Taeyang sat at the center with a proud, serious expression on his tiny face. Yuhyun sat beside him, legs crossed and arms folded like an expert food critic. Dohyun and Taejin flanked them, each holding an engraved placard labeled "Judge."
Sihyun rolled his sleeves up with flair, tying a cloth around his hair.
"Hope you're ready to be humbled,"
he said, smirking across the space at Muwon.
Muwon calmly pulled on a dark apron, hair tied back in a half-knot.
"I don't plan on losing to someone who once burned tea water."
Sihyun gasped.
"That was one time!"
Before anything could escalate, Yuhyun raised a hand like a referee.
"One rule,"
he said sternly, pointing at Sihyun.
"No magic. If I see even a spark, you're disqualified."
Sihyun placed a dramatic hand over his chest.
"How dare you? I'm offended. I plan to win this fair and square."
Then, under his breath, he muttered,
"...unless I burn something."
"I heard that!"
Yuhyun called out.
Taeyang clapped his hands eagerly.
"Ready? Papa! Dada! You may begin!"
A bell was rung, and the cooking showdown began.
Muwon moved with quiet precision—washing vegetables, dicing meat, and heating oil with the calm air of a seasoned soldier. Meanwhile, Sihyun… was already panicking.
"Why isn't the pan hot?"
he whispered to himself.
"Did I turn the wrong knob?"
Behind the judging table, Dohyun leaned toward Taejin.
"My money's on Muwon."
Taejin snorted.
"Mine's on chaos. Look at Sihyun—he's already sweating and he hasn't even cracked an egg."
Taeyang tilted his head.
"Uncle Dohyun, what's Dada doing?"
Yuhyun sighed deeply.
"He's trying. That's what matters."
Sihyun finally got his stove going, slapped on some butter, and started slicing vegetables like his life depended on it.
Muwon, on the other hand, was quietly marinating meat with herbs, barely even reacting to the noise around him. The smell coming from his table already had Dohyun and Taejin leaning forward eagerly.
"Unfair,"
Sihyun muttered, noticing.
"Why does his food already smell good? Mine smells like…"
He sniffed the air.
"...burnt dreams."
He fanned the smoke from his pan and quickly tried to salvage the dish.
Across the courtyard, Taeyang bounced in his seat.
"This is so fun! Can they both win?"
"Nope,"
Yuhyun replied flatly.
"One victor. One crown. One kitchen king."
"Uncle Yuhyun, you sound scary,"
Taeyang said with a giggle.
As the competition raged on, Sihyun finally found his rhythm. He seasoned his ingredients with a dramatic flair, even flipping vegetables in the air with impressive speed—until one chunk of onion landed on the floor.
Muwon raised an eyebrow.
"Graceful."
"Shut up,"
Sihyun muttered, sweeping it away.
After a bit more chopping, sizzling, and near-disasters, both fathers plated their meals.
Sihyun presented a spicy stir-fried noodle dish with crispy vegetables, while Muwon had made a perfectly grilled chicken with glazed root vegetables and a golden broth on the side.
Sihyun leaned over his dish proudly.
"It's not magic. It's skill."
Muwon simply folded his arms, waiting.
Now it was time for the moment of truth—the tasting.
Once the dishes were placed on the table, silence fell over the courtyard—well, except for Sihyun's nervous pacing and Muwon subtly wiping his sweaty palms on his apron.
"Alright, let's begin,"
Yuhyun said, picking up his spoon with dramatic flair.
"Let's start with Dada's dish."
Sihyun straightened his back, trying to look confident, but his fingers were nervously twisting the corner of his apron.
Taeyang took the first bite with eager eyes, then froze dramatically.
"Mmm…"
His little cheeks puffed as he chewed with exaggerated thinking.
"Is that a good mmm or a bad mmm?"
Sihyun asked nervously, leaning forward.
Taeyang grinned.
"It's spicy and yummy!"
Dohyun nodded, spoon in his mouth.
"Actually… it's not bad, Sihyun. The noodles have a nice kick."
"Impressive,"
Taejin added, wiping his mouth.
"Though… the onions are a bit undercooked."
"I panicked, alright?"
Sihyun said defensively, then mumbled,
"At least I didn't burn tea water…"
"Wasn't that you?"
Yuhyun muttered.
"Shut up."
Next was Muwon's turn.
The judges took their bites. Yuhyun blinked in surprise.
"Whoa. That broth."
Taeyang's eyes lit up.
"Papa! This is really good!"
Taejin pointed with his chopsticks.
"This chicken's perfectly tender."
"But,"
Dohyun added thoughtfully,
"the vegetables are just a tiny bit too sweet for my taste."
Muwon nodded politely.
"Noted."
Sihyun, arms crossed, tilted his head.
"So even the 'kitchen prince' makes mistakes, huh?"
Muwon gave him a sideways glance.
"Unlike someone who tried to fry cabbage in oil meant for dessert pastries."
"One time!"
Yuhyun cleared his throat like a game show host.
"Alright, judges. Let's decide."
The four whispered dramatically for a moment, clearly enjoying dragging out the suspense. Sihyun started pacing again. Muwon rubbed the back of his neck.
Finally, Taeyang stood up and raised both hands.
"The winner is…"
He paused for dramatic effect.
"...Papa!"
Muwon blinked, surprised.
"I won?"
"Barely,"
Yuhyun added, holding his fingers close together.
Sihyun let out a soft "ugh," and folded his arms with a playful pout.
"I demand a recount."
Dohyun leaned back, grinning.
"Sihyun, you tried your best. You didn't set anything on fire. That's a win."
"Yeah,"
Taejin added.
"We're honestly impressed you didn't cheat with magic."
"I'm still watching you,"
Yuhyun warned.
Sihyun rolled his eyes.
"You all are so dramatic—"
Before he could finish, Muwon walked over and pulled him into a warm hug.
"You did great,"
he said softly, resting his chin on Sihyun's shoulder.
Then Taeyang ran up and wrapped his tiny arms around both of them.
"Dada! I loved your food! Next time, you'll win, I know it!"
Sihyun melted instantly, returning both hugs tightly.
"You really think so?"
Taeyang nodded vigorously.
"You're my Dada!"
Sihyun looked like he was about to cry and laugh at the same time.
Behind them, Dohyun wiped an imaginary tear.
"Such a wholesome family moment."
Taejin nodded solemnly.
"Too bad he still can't cook."
Sihyun broke the hug just to turn around and glare at them.
"You wanna repeat this competition? I'll make you eat your words—and undercooked onions."
Everyone laughed, and the courtyard filled with warmth, teasing, and the faint smell of slightly burnt noodles.
The night settled gently over the palace, the moon casting a silvery glow through the curtains of Taeyang's room. The boy was tucked under soft blankets, his small hands clutching his stuffed tiger. Sihyun sat at the edge of the bed, gently brushing back a few strands of hair from Taeyang's forehead.
"Dada,"
Taeyang murmured sleepily, blinking up at him.
"Can you sing me a song?"
Sihyun's heart tightened at the request. For a moment, he didn't speak—just stared down at the child, remembering a voice long gone and warm nights under a crumbling roof, his mother's soft voice humming against the wind.
"Alright,"
he whispered, and lifted his hand gently.
A soft golden mist began to float from his fingertips, drifting into the air like glowing threads. It shimmered quietly, wrapping the room in a warm, magical hush.
And then, his voice began to sing.
It wasn't loud—it was soft, almost like a whisper. The melody was old, a lullaby woven with both love and sorrow. The glowing mist danced in time with the notes, taking gentle shapes—stars, a bird in flight, a tree swaying under moonlight. Just like their mother used to do.
🎵
Close your eyes, my little light,
Moon above is shining bright,
Dreams will hold you, calm and kind,
In your heart, the stars will shine.
🎵
Taeyang's eyelids fluttered.
🎵
Even when the dark is near,
Mama's song is always here,
Sleep, my child, and softly know,
You are loved more than you know.
🎵
By the time the final note faded, Taeyang's breathing had evened out. He was fast asleep, a peaceful smile still resting on his lips.
Sihyun leaned forward quietly, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.
"Goodnight… my sunshine,"
he whispered.
He lingered just a second longer before quietly standing and leaving the room, the last flickers of golden magic fading behind him like a gentle memory.