Chapter 253. A Taste of Home

Chapter 253. A Taste of Home
The next morning, the moment Jacintha came downstairs, she caught a scent that felt achingly familiar.

It was not the usual smell of coffee from the kitchen each morning, but the fragrance of baked apple pie and light vegetable soup, a scent that had surfaced only in scattered fragments of her childhood memories, so faintly that she had thought she had forgotten it long ago.

She stopped short on the last step.

Raphael came down behind her, and when he saw the look on her face, he spoke in an unhurried tone. “Celestine came over at dawn. She said she wanted to make breakfast for you and Mira. Don’t worry, I had the servants watch her while she cooked. Every ingredient came from us.”

Jacintha frowned slightly. A part of her was touched by Celestine’s enthusiasm, but the moment she thought of the possibility that such warmth might be hiding calculation beneath it, discomfort crept back in.

“I’ll tell her later she doesn’t need to get up early on purpose just to make breakfast for me anymore.”

Raphael arched a brow. “Fine by me. But I don’t know whether you’ll still feel that way after you’ve tasted her cooking.”

Jacintha shot him a sidelong glance. “You think I’m some kind of glutton?”

She was long past the age where someone could give her a piece of cake and win her over completely.

She walked quickly into the dining room.

Several simple dishes had been laid out on the table, but the mere sight of them was enough to make the bridge of her nose burn. Memories of childhood, of days when her parents had still been there to shelter her, rushed back all at once. Celestine stood beside the table, still holding a small wooden ladle in her hand. The moment she saw Jacintha, she smiled at once.

“You’re awake? I didn’t know what the two of you liked these days. I only remembered that your mother used to love these dishes, and I thought maybe you would too, so I made them.”

Jacintha looked at the bowl of soup before her, and her heart gave a small, sudden ache. She had loved these dishes too. Her mother had cooked them for her countless times, and she had never once grown tired of them. But ever since her parents had passed away, it had been such a long, long time since she had tasted them again. No matter whether she cooked them herself or Wulfhart’s five-star chefs did, no one had ever managed to recreate the flavor of her childhood.

Mira had already been sitting there. Her complexion looked a little better than it had the day before, perhaps because William had not allowed anyone to disturb her through the night, so she had finally been able to sleep. But when she saw the food spread across the table, her gaze wavered as well.

Celestine spoke gently. “I was the one who taught your mother how to make these dishes in the first place, so the taste should not be too different. Try them. If anything feels off, I’ll adjust it.”

Jack sat nearby, eating while curiously watching Aiden tinker with the controller for a plane. The moment he saw Jacintha, he immediately called out, “Mommy, this cousin knows how to fix airplane propellers. He’s actually not bad.”

Aiden lifted his chin proudly. “I can fix real heavy machines too. These little toys are nothing.”

Admiration for strength was every child’s instinct, so even though Jack still kept his guard up around Aiden, he could not help being drawn to Aiden’s talent.

Jacintha sat down and took a spoonful of soup. The moment she tasted it, she fell silent for a while.

To be honest, it did not taste exactly the way it had in her memory. Perhaps that was because it had not been cooked by her mother. And yet, it soothed her heart in the same way her mother used to when she stroked her head.

Celestine looked at her with the anxious eyes of an adult afraid that the child before her might not like the food she had made.

“Well?”

Jacintha looked up, the corners of her lips curving slightly. “It’s delicious.”

Celestine’s face visibly relaxed. She smiled, her eyes reddening as well. “That’s good, then.”

Mira quietly watched the scene without saying a word. She kept eating, still letting Celestine place more pastries onto her plate, but every now and then her gaze lingered on the woman’s hands a little longer than usual, as if she were still silently observing.

William was there too. He sat close beside Mira. Though he did not join the conversation, every time she ate even a little less, he frowned.

“Eat some more,” he said under his breath.

Mira glanced at him. “I can’t force down another bite.”

“Then drink some milk. Right now, you’re eating for our child too.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he placed a glass of milk into her hand.

Celestine watched them with an exceptionally gentle look in her eyes. “William really does love you very much.”

Mira paused for a moment, then lowered her gaze. “Yeah.”

Raphael sat beside Jacintha the entire time and barely spoke. He only quietly pulled out her chair for her, removed the remaining fish bones from her food, then poured her a cup of warm milk. He did those small things so naturally, as if he had done them countless times before.

Jacintha took the cup, lowered her head to drink a sip, then asked softly, “Aren’t you eating?”

Raphael tilted his head and looked at her. “Watching you eat is enough to fill me up.”

Jacintha shot him a look. “Don’t talk nonsense in front of everyone. Jack’s looking at you.”

Raphael gave a quiet laugh. “I didn’t say anything out of line. Besides, I’m setting an example for Jack, so he’ll know how to take care of his mate in the future.”

Jack immediately chimed in, “I’ll take care of Evelyn like that.”

Aiden asked, “Who’s Evelyn? Your girlfriend?”