“What is it?” “Food.” She takes a tentative bite before shuddering. There’s an ungodly amount of garlic; she has to physically force herself to swallow it down. “Are you sure?” Khiran scowls, taking the bowl back and trying a spoonful himself. He blanches. “I… am not practiced in this particular skill. I am now remembering why I gave up on it.” He says it as if it means nothing, but Anna feels her chest tighten. “You cooked this… for me?” Scoffing, he sets the bowl aside with a dark scowl in its direction. “I certainly didn’t do it for myself.” Anna shakes her head, fidgeting. “But why? You
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