* * *

Dripping wet like a soaked squirrel, Remy glared daggers at Ashton, who just shrugged.

“I was worried. My one and only best friend is so fragile. What if you went under and never came back?”

“You have a dog at home, right?”

“Of course.”

“Go talk to it, then. I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

Even that retort didn’t faze Ashton. He just laughed.

That laugh only annoyed Remy more.

‘What is this guy’s deal? Is he secretly a psychopath? So full of himself he never thinks of anyone else?’

“Come on, stop spacing out. Let’s go.”

“Why? No. I want to swim more.”

“You suck at swimming, though.”

“…I don’t. I can swim.”

“Sure. Enough. Let’s go. I have something to do with you.”

“With me?”

Ashton draped a big towel over Remy’s head and shoulders.

The warm, fluffy fabric absorbed the cold water.

Despite his irritation, Remy’s curiosity got the better of him.

‘Pandora’s curiosity doomed mankind, after all.’

Well, curiosity was hard to resist.

With a sigh, Remy let himself be led — or rather, dragged — by Ashton.

Surprisingly, Ashton brought him to a garden table set outside.

Originally meant for afternoon tea, today it was laid out with a hearty meal.

‘No wonder it smelled so good.’

“What’s all this?”

“Lunch.”

“I can see that.”

“Sit. I’m starving.”

Come to think of it, lunch had passed.

He’d been so lost in his thoughts he forgot.

Now, seeing the food, he realized how hungry he was.

“What is this? I’ve never seen this before.”

Ever skeptical, Remy eyed the unfamiliar dish.

Ashton just grinned and pulled out a chair for him.

“Sit. I don’t mess around with food.”

It still seemed suspicious, but what could Ashton possibly do with food?

Reluctantly, Remy sat.

“Here’s your napkin.”

Like a waiter, Ashton draped a napkin over his arm.

Remy couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s with you, Ashton?”

“Just eat. I made it for you, my lord.”

“Are you sick? Sleep-deprived?”

“Nope. You’re the sickly one here, always fainting at the drop of a hat.”

“Ha.”

Faced with Ashton’s antics, Remy decided to play along.

Whatever his reason, Ashton did seem to have prepared something tasty.

‘It smells decent. Can’t be worse than venison, right?’

No way could it be that bad.

With a shrug, Remy picked up his spoon.

“Here, try it with some bread.”

Ashton had made a chunky stew.

But what caught Remy’s attention was the unusual color and scent.

‘It’s red… is it tomato? Doesn’t smell like it.’

Dipping his spoon, he took a bite.

‘What the hell…?!’

This dish, as unfamiliar as it looked, was hot.

Scorchingly, painfully hot.

Its unnaturally vibrant red color should’ve been a dead giveaway—it tasted like someone had chopped up and dumped a hundred Vietnamese chilies into the pot.

Remy felt like his insides were ablaze.

Tears streamed down his face as his eyes turned red, overwhelmed by the fiery stew.

“Water! Water! Give me water, now!”

“H-Huh? Oh! Here, here’s some water!”

Ashton, clearly startled by Remy’s desperate cries, scrambled to pass him a glass of water.

Remy snatched it from his hands and gulped it down in a frenzy.

When Ashton started refilling the glass, Remy took the entire bottle instead, tilting it back to drink straight from it.

“Haah… Hah… What the hell is this spicy mess? Haah…”

After draining nearly half the bottle, Remy finally caught his breath.

Even so, the burning sensation lingered, forcing him to clutch his stomach as he tried to soothe the pain.

“Ashton!”

Remy shot Ashton a glare, his voice heavy with mock outrage.

Ashton, who had been staring at him with a dazed expression, snapped out of it when Remy barked at him.

“Huh?”

“What the hell were you thinking? Are you out of your mind? Who feeds someone something like this? What’s the deal, huh? Trying to kill me with spice or something?”

“Remy, I thought…”

“Thought what? Speak!”

“I thought… you wanted something spicy?”

For a moment, Remy furrowed his brows, confused.

“What are you talking about, Ashton? Why would I—”

“You said so. Remember? Last time. You mentioned wanting spicy food.”

Suddenly, a memory clicked into place.

It was back then, during breakfast at Aylesford’s summer villa.

After finishing an extravagant brunch, Remy had felt oddly unsatisfied.

He’d idly listed spicy foods in his head, even muttering to himself that he wanted something spicy.

‘Wait. He actually heard me say that? And he remembered? And then went out of his way to find this fiery dish and cook it himself?’

Remy’s stomach dropped as he pieced it together.

Ashton must’ve remembered his offhand comment and decided to surprise him.

No wonder the dish felt unfamiliar—it had been made with ingredients entirely foreign to this region.

“Oh, come on. You really went all out for this? These spices are tough to find, even in the East,” Ashton said with a playful grumble, starting to clean up.

Despite his casual tone, Remy couldn’t help but sense a hint of disappointment in Ashton’s voice.

It made sense; Ashton had clearly gone to great lengths to prepare the dish, only for Remy to nearly choke on it.

For a moment, just a tiny moment, Remy felt a pang of guilt. S

ure, he wasn’t exactly in a position to feel bad for Ashton—given their complicated dynamic—but this time, he kind of did.

“N-No, it’s fine! I actually really wanted something spicy. It’s great!”

Steeling himself, Remy scooped up a large spoonful of the stew and shoved it into his mouth.

His tongue immediately felt like it was on fire again, but after a second bite, he started to adjust. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.

Actually, if it had been any other day, he might’ve even enjoyed it.

‘Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten too used to the bland food here. I haven’t had anything spicy in almost a month.’

“Remy, you don’t have to force yourself…”

“No, really. It’s delicious!”

“Remy, you’re crying. You know that, right?”

“Huh? Oh, this? Haha… It’s just so good it’s making me emotional, that’s all.”

Despite his teary eyes, Remy managed to finish the entire pot of stew.

By the end, he realized the sauce Remynded him of something familiar: the spicy, savory flavor of Korean dakbokkeumtang.

The chunks of meat and vegetables, too—it was like eating a boneless version of the dish.

“Wow… That was amazing…”

And so, Remy’s final verdict on the painfully spicy stew was that it was delicious.

It was the kind of fiery, flavorful heat he hadn’t realized he’d missed so much.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Ashton said, ruffling Remy’s hair as he cleared away the empty bowl.

The gesture, more suited to a dog or cat, annoyed Remy a little, but he decided to let it slide—for today, at least.

After all, Ashton had gone to the trouble of making something just for him.

‘You should thank that stew for saving your life, Ashton.’

Of course, it wasn’t as if Ashton’s life had ever been in danger, but still, Remy allowed himself that small, meaningless mercy.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Your stomach doesn’t hurt?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was really good.”

“Great! Want me to make it for you again?”

“…Again?”

“Yeah. Or is there something else you’d like to try? Just tell me.”

For a moment, Remy hesitated, caught off guard by Ashton’s sincerity.

But then, he remembered himself and frowned.

“It’s fine. If I want something, I’ll just ask one of my servants. You don’t need to trouble yourself over it.”

He’d almost forgotten his place. Letting his guard down around Ashton wasn’t an option.

“Sure. If that’s what you want,” Ashton replied easily, his calm demeanor unshaken.

No matter what Remy said or how cold he acted, Ashton’s self-assurance remained unscathed.

“Still, if you ever change your mind, just let me know. I’ll make whatever you want.”

With the golden sunlight filtering through the orange trees behind him, Ashton flashed a radiant smile.

Remy, whose heart had been sent racing several times that day, felt his face flush yet again.

All the bitterness he’d carried that morning seemed to dissolve, replaced by the lingering warmth of spicy stew and Ashton’s infuriatingly bright presence.

* * *