036 ※ Cinnamon Rolls, Cold Baths, and Queen-Sized Trauma

"I'm sorry, Avain, I didn't put myself in your place, I was just... oh, I'm sorry."

I could feel the sincerity in Winter's voice, but it was hard to ignore the way her words left a lingering, uncomfortable weight. I nodded, swallowing down the emotions that surged up, pushing them back down. "It's okay. I'm okay. Really." I gave her a reassuring smile, but it felt a little strained, a little too much. It was fine—no, it was more than fine. "In the end, the queen started a war with the Albtraum Kingdom for another reason entirely. She probably doesn't even know I'm still alive, anyway."

"Oh no, she probably knows, honey. That old wrinkled spider." Winter's tone shifted, growing darker, more disgusted. "I like witches, but not that one. That bitch is evil incarnate." The venom in her voice made me shiver. There was a history there, a history I had yet to fully understand.

I nodded again, the memories of that brief encounter flooding back. "I know. I only met her once and I almost died." The words slipped out without thinking, and when I glanced at Winter and Kai, I saw that they exchanged a look—an understanding one, but it was clear they weren't ready to pry. I didn't blame them; it was a story I didn't want to tell, not yet, maybe never.

"You met the queen?" Winter's voice took on a sharp, serious tone, one that made my stomach twist. She leaned forward, waiting for me to elaborate.

"Unfortunately, yes," I answered, my voice almost a whisper, the memory of that terrifying moment still fresh in my mind. "Bad memories." The words hung between us, a silent understanding that I didn't need to say more.

"This means she doesn't want to talk about it, mom," Kai's voice broke through, his tone as firm as always. There was a sense of protectiveness in the way he spoke, a protective instinct that I wasn't sure whether to be comforted by or irritated at.

"I already know that," Winter replied, rolling her eyes at him, the motion so familiar it almost made me smile. She knew exactly how to deal with him, it seemed. The dynamic between them was something I had started to pick up on, and it was becoming clearer each time they interacted. Almost like saying she didn't know.

"So, this is a story for another time." Kai's voice softened, almost like he was trying to change the subject. "Mom, Sam is probably waiting for you in the library. You know she doesn't like to wait." He smiled at her, a playful glint in his eyes. It was like he was trying to distract her, and in a way, I was grateful for it. I didn't need to dive into the dark waters of the queen's visit just yet.

"Oh, I know that old witch. She scared me like hell when I was younger." Winter chuckled, the sound light but with an undertone of real fear. I couldn't help but laugh as well. "For real," she added, her grin widening.

"I know the feeling." I leaned back slightly, remembering my own unease around Sam. "She looks sweet, but when she shows her true self, she looks more dangerous than Kai." Winter's gaze shifted to me, her eyes full of understanding, as if she knew exactly what I meant.

"Except that Kai doesn't look dangerous," I said, glancing over at him with a teasing smile. "He looks like a cinnamon roll."

"Mom!" Kai's voice was full of exasperation, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

"What?" She shrugged. "You're my little cinnamon roll."

"I'm not a kid anymore, mom!" he protested, his voice rising just a bit.

"You will always be a kid in front of your mother, Kai," Winter replied, her voice steady, serious. The words were familiar, like a mantra she had said a thousand times before. And when she gave him a look—a look that mirrored his own—I couldn't help but marvel at how much they were alike. Damn.

She kissed his cheek, the affection still clear in her actions, before glancing over at me and winking as she moved toward the door. With a fluid movement, she opened the dimensional gate that Kai had created, and she left.

He turned his green eyes to me, "Don't let her fool you, sweetheart. She may not look like it, but she's dangerous."

"I feel it." I nodded, a slight chill running through me at the thought of his mother. "And even if I couldn't, with that look she gave you, I could guess."

"But she's the best mother I could ever ask the gods for," Kai said, his voice softening for just a moment. There was something in his eyes then, something I hadn't seen before—something that spoke of love, of a deep connection. I could feel it too, even if I didn't fully understand it.

"She looks like a good mother." I let the words sit between us for a second. "And I could notice how she loves you and all the others."

Kai didn't reply at first. Instead, he stepped back slightly, clearing his throat before shifting the subject. "So… I'm gonna go. When you get ready, wait for me here, and then we'll go down for breakfast in a faster way than yesterday." The last part of his sentence seemed to have a teasing edge to it.

"Hahaha, funny," I responded, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. "I won't forget how you made me climb all those steps, you bastard. When you could've opened a dimensional—"

"It wouldn't be the same," he interrupted, his words coming out with an edge that made me pause. What did he mean by that?

"Just go, I'll wait for you here if I get ready first," I muttered, feeling slightly exasperated.

"Fine." He started to leave, but then he stopped and turned around, as if he had just remembered something. Our eyes met across the room, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. There was something in the way his gaze lingered on me that made my heart skip.

"I've forgotten," he said suddenly, his voice dropping in tone, becoming almost playful. "Did you like the hot bath?"

"Are you kidding me?" I retorted, my voice a little too sharp. "I took the cold one."

"Liar." His smirk was back, that smug, infuriating grin that made my blood boil. "Your pride is so big that you can't even admit you bathe with it?"

"Why are you such an asshole?" I shot back, unable to hide the irritation in my voice.

"Are you sure I'm the one being an asshole here?" he asked, his tone dripping with that signature cockiness. His smile only grew wider, more infuriating. "I think you might be the one with the pride issues."

With one last look, he finally closed my door behind him, leaving me alone in the room. The silence that followed was oddly comforting, but it was quickly followed by a storm of conflicting emotions that I wasn't sure how to sort through.

["I am not being an asshole because I want to, you stupid bastard. It's not like I have another choice."] I groaned to myself, the feeling of helplessness drowning me.