Over an hour passed before she returned, riding Karma back into the clearing like a queen returning from battle, or a girl who'd just had the best therapy session of her life.
Her hair was a wild mess, tangled and windblown, sticking to her cheek in places, floating behind her like a banner. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes clear.
And her smile—
Wide. Genuine. Unapologetic.
She slid off Karma's back with a grace that made Malvor jealous, landing softly in the grass and immediately burying her face into the warhorse's neck.
"You are the best boy in all the realms," she crooned, petting his sides, nuzzling his jaw. "Look at you, didn't even try to kill any trees this time! Such a good baby. Mama's so proud."
Karma snorted proudly and butted his head against her chest, nearly knocking her over.
She giggled, wrapping both arms around his massive neck.
Malvor, from a safe distance, watched with a deeply skeptical expression.
"You know," he drawled, "most people wouldn't refer to a creature that once trampled a minor god as 'baby.'"
"He was provoked," Annie said without looking at him. "And it was a minor god. Barely counts."
Malvor scoffed. "He's a menace."
She turned, still grinning. "You're just mad he outranks you."
"I'm not afraid of him," Malvor muttered.
Karma turned his head slowly.
Made direct eye contact.
And lunged.
Malvor yelled and jumped back as giant, divine horse teeth snapped right in front of his ribs, inches from making a god-sized bruise.
"Bloody hell!" he shouted, one hand flying to his chest. "He aimed that! That was premeditated!"
Annie beamed and kissed Karma's nose. "He's very smart."
Malvor pointed a shaking, dramatic finger. "Your beloved equine assassin just tried to bite the god of chaos!"
"He missed, didn't he?" she teased.
"Barely! I saw my life flash before my eyes! There was glitter. You were in it. And so was he, which is deeply disturbing."
Annie was laughing now, full and free, rubbing Karma's face as he sniffed her pockets for treats.
"I think he just wants you to know his place in my life is secure."
Malvor narrowed his eyes. "If he ever kicks me, I will declare war."
Karma huffed.
Malvor huffed back.
And Annie kissed the horse's forehead like this was all perfectly normal.
Back inside Arbor, the warm light adjusted to match Annie's glow. She was still a mess, hair tangled from the ride, grass clinging to her dress, a smear of dirt on her cheek, but she looked alive again.
Malvor watched her disappear into the bathroom, then turned toward the kitchen with sudden purpose.
He was going to make her dinner.
From scratch.
With love.
Which, unfortunately, did not come with any actual skill.
An hour later, the dining table was set. He even conjured candles. Real ones, with soft golden flames. A linen napkin folded like an awkward swan sat beside her plate. And on the plate…
Something.
An attempt at pasta. Maybe risotto? Perhaps once, it had been a sauce. Now it was vaguely congealed. The noodles were both soggy and inexplicably crunchy. There were mysterious herbs sprinkled like regret across the top. Something smoked. Accidentally.
He stood proudly when she emerged. "Madam," he said, bowing theatrically. "Your divine dinner awaits."
Annie blinked at the plate.
Then at him.
Then smiled, soft and warm. "You cooked?"
"From scratch," he said, puffing his chest.
She sat down without hesitation. Picked up her fork. Took a bite.
And chewed.
Malvor watched her with the wide-eyed anticipation of a puppy showing off a muddy stick.
She nodded, slowly. "It's…"
"Yes?" he leaned in.
"…very… Malvor."
"I'll take it."
She took another bite, hiding the smallest wince. He poured them both wine that probably didn't pair with whatever this was, but neither of them cared.
She was halfway through her plate when he finally stopped talking long enough to take a bite himself.
One chew. Two.
He gagged.
"Oh gods," he choked, slamming the fork down. "Is this what I've done? Did I cook this with my eyes closed and a vendetta against flavor?!"
Annie shrugged, still eating. "I have had much worse."
He looked horrified. "When?!"
She raised a brow. "Temple meals. Pre-runecarving days. One time I ate something that was mostly dirt and dried fish bits."
He stared at her like she'd just confessed to war crimes.
"And this is only slightly worse," she added.
He groaned and dropped his head to the table.
She reached out and brushed a hand through his hair.
"It's terrible," she said sweetly, "but it was made with love. And I don't get that very often. So… I'm finishing it."
He looked up, brow furrowed.
"I love you," he blurted, voice low and reverent. "Even if your standards are clearly warped."
She grinned, stabbing another bite. "Love you too, Chef Calamity."
She cleared her plate. He cleared the table.
And for a moment, everything felt whole.
She smiled for him. Ate the terrible food for him. Laughed for him. Not because she felt better. Because he needed her to.
Somewhere deep in her bones, she felt the scream waiting. It hadn't left. It was just watching. Waiting for the right crack to burst through.