Mary and Cleo reappeared in the kitchen a few minutes later, slipping back into the warm glow of lantern light. The dishes Ryan had set out still steamed gently, their scents coiling through the air like soft ribbons.
Ryan straightened the moment he saw them, placing the lids aside with quiet urgency. "Wife," he asked, eyes fixed on her, "how did it go?"
Mary sank onto her seat and began scooping rice into the bowls, her posture confident, almost regal. She tilted her chin with a smug flick. "It went as expected. When have I ever failed?"
Ryan's smile bloomed instantly, warm and helpless. "Mm. My wife is the best."
She shot him a sideways glare meant to be stern, though the corner of her lips betrayed her. "Enough flattery. Eat. Afterward we cultivate. I'm planning to read a medical text later."
With the announcement made, the three finally began eating in earnest.
