Serein was swept into the whirling rhythm of the little restaurant, until even her thoughts of leaving were scattered like flour into the air.
Kai was quick on his feet, but in the kitchen he was still a boy, clumsy and often more hindrance than help. With Serein's hands at her side, Susan took full advantage, pressing her into every task she could.
To Serein's surprise, she found that she had more skills than she had ever given herself credit for.
"If only I'd had a daughter, life would be so much easier." Susan sighed once, half a complaint, half a tease.
Kai immediately scowled and protested, only to be met with his mother's sharp glare, the kind that carried more mockery than malice.
Serein knew well enough that it was only a joke. Beneath every word and every glance was an ocean of tenderness reserved for her son.
A mother could grumble. A mother could scold. But only a beast would truly hate its own child.
