Axel stood silently in the kitchen doorway, watching his mother as she expertly moved around, instructing the cooks on what to prepare. Her tone was firm but warm, giving clear directions about which dishes to delegate and which ones she would personally handle. She told the kitchen staff to leave the meatballs to her—she wanted to make them using her own special recipe.
Eventually, Lana turned and finally noticed Axel hovering behind her. "You've been standing there without saying a word. Is there something you want to ask me?" she asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
Axel nodded quickly, his face unreadable.
Concern crept into her voice. "What is it? Is there a problem?"
"No, no," Axel said, raising his hands. "There's no problem. It's just…" He glanced around at the busy kitchen, clearly uncomfortable speaking in front of the staff.
Lana understood immediately. "Alright. I'll be back," she told the cooks, then followed Axel out of the kitchen.
