Chapter 11

"We're used to surviving for days without food. Didn't I tell you that this weak girl was rippled?" one of the men said loudly, clearly intending for Taya to hear. His mocking tone didn't go unnoticed, but Taya chose to ignore him, focusing instead on her task. Despite his words, some of the men stepped forward to help her gather firewood and set up a fire.

Within an hour, the fish were caught and ready. Taya retrieved a sharp knife from her bag and began cleaning and preparing the fish for cooking. The process was smooth and efficient, and a few men even lent a hand, though others chose to remain on the sidelines, watching the scene unfold from afar.

The savory aroma of grilled fish soon filled the air, wafting through the camp and catching the attention of the hungry men. Their empty stomachs growled in response, and their expressions softened as the delicious scent teased their senses. Taya, fully aware of the men's plight, worked diligently to ensure everyone was fed.

Even as she cooked, her thoughts lingered on a harsh truth: no one in the Tulip Lands had ever truly accepted her. Yet she had to keep trying—perhaps until death, if necessary. After preparing enough portions, she began distributing food to Orig's men, making sure each one received their share.

Taya waited patiently, refraining from eating herself, as she hoped to share a meal with her husband when he returned. Her determination to bridge the growing chasm between them gave her a sense of purpose.

"Oh, my lady, I've never tasted anything this good in my entire life!" one of the men exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. His words were cut short by the sudden sound of horses neighing. The group turned to see Orig approaching, his expression grim, his hands empty.

The hunting party had returned with nothing. The deputy explained in somber tones that the forest was eerily barren. Something had frightened the wildlife, causing all the animals to flee the area. Not a single trace of life remained near the river.

Orig's piercing, sharp gaze scanned the camp. When his eyes landed on Taya, he paused, his expression unreadable. Though he didn't speak to her directly, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of her efforts. Without a word, he turned his attention to his men, engaging them in hushed conversation about the strange situation they'd encountered.

Taya quietly served Orig a dish of grilled fish, placing it before him as he sat beneath the shade of a large tree. Her own tent was situated nearby, slightly more isolated than the others, reflecting her unique position among the group.

Orig ate in silence, finishing the entire dish with surprising speed. Then, to her astonishment, he asked for more.

Taya's heart soared with joy. In the past, he had never even tasted her cooking. On countless occasions over the past eight years of their marriage, he had thrown away her meals in disdain, shattering plates and leaving her humiliated. The memory of those painful times brought tears to her eyes, but these tears carried a mix of emotions—pain, relief, and a faint glimmer of hope.

"There's still plenty left cooking over the fire," she whispered softly, replenishing his plate. "I didn't know your men would catch so many fish, but I'm glad you enjoy the taste."

Orig glanced at her as he ate. He noticed how she watched each bite he took with anticipation, her stomach growling faintly in the quiet moments. Without warning, he reached out and pulled her into his lap, surprising her.

"Why don't you eat?" he asked, holding her in place.

Taya was startled by the sudden intimacy. 'Did he lose his mind while hunting?' she wondered, trying to make sense of his actions.

"I have my own hands; I can feed myself," she started to protest. Before she could finish, Orig took a piece of fish and pressed it against her lips, forcing her to take a large bite. It nearly choked her.

Coughing, she stumbled to her feet, glaring at him. "Are you trying to kill me?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in frustration.

Orig smirked, his expression smug. "If I wanted to, I would've done it by now. But no, you're too entertaining for that. You seem to enjoy testing my patience."

Taya sighed, rolling her eyes as she snatched the plate from his hands. "Cool down, Orig. I'm not going anywhere. You'll have to put up with me, husband, whether you like it or not."

For a moment, Orig's features softened. "You know, I'm not usually fond of seafood," he admitted, his tone quieter, almost reflective. He stood, moving closer to her until her back was pressed against the trunk of the tree.

Lowering himself to her level, Orig's hot breath brushed against her neck. His eyes locked onto hers with a startling intensity. "But listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I don't want you cooking for anyone else ever again. Let them starve if they have to. No one is allowed to eat your food but me. Do you understand?"

Taya's breath hitched as she felt the weight of his words. "It's just grilled fish, Orig. It wasn't a big deal—they're your men," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.

Orig raised her chin with his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Taya, this isn't a request—it's an order. If I ever see anyone else eating what you've made, I'll make you regret it. Is that clear?"

His tone sent a shiver down her spine. She swallowed hard, nodding silently.

After dismissing her to her tent, Orig returned to his men. Taya sighed as she lay on her bed, her mind restless. 'He praised my cooking, yet his words carry no real affection,' she thought bitterly.

Through the thin walls of the tent, she could hear the men laughing and drinking wine. Their voices seemed carefree, but Taya's heart felt heavy. She couldn't stop herself from waiting, hoping he might come to her.

"Get over yourself, Taya," she muttered, frustrated with her own emotions. "The universe doesn't revolve around your feelings."

Exhaustion overtook her as she lay still, her body worn from the day's efforts. She had pushed herself too hard, hoping to prove her worth to him.

When Orig finally entered the tent, he found her fast asleep. Sitting beside her, he leaned in close, his expression softening. "Never get poisoned again," he whispered, his voice tinged with tenderness.

Taya stirred slightly, her hand reaching for his arm in her sleep. Orig froze, his face reddening. Though he rarely drank, the wine he'd consumed earlier made it harder to control the storm of emotions swirling within him.

He gently laid her hand back down, retreating a few steps. She had rejected his touch before, and the sting of that rejection lingered. Pride and dignity kept him at a distance, even as a part of him longed to stay by her side.

Quietly, he left the tent, his heart and mind at war with each other.

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