Seated at the dining table without realizing how, Zion scrutinized Ibi’s back with suspicious eyes.

In the kitchen, Ibi wasn’t particularly skilled. Instead, the sight of her tying her hair back and donning an apron looked quite charming.

Ibi Ariate was, in that very state, preparing a meal for Zion Laurel.

“What’s going on? Why are you suddenly here?”

Zion didn’t readily accept Ibi’s newfound kindness, which seemed like a sudden transformation.

So, as he observed Ibi’s back, tied with an apron, he turned his head, feeling guilty about eavesdropping on a conversation he couldn’t understand.

“Feeling hot?”

Seeing this, Yubia chuckled towards Zion.

It was an innocent question, but the man whose feet had gone numb coldly glanced at her. It was an action that wouldn’t recover his pride.

“If you don’t like it, just say so instead of giving me that look.”

“Pfft!”

Without giving Zion a chance to be surprised by Yubia’s valid scolding, laughter erupted from the kitchen. It was Ibi.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

Apologizing with a laughter-infused voice, Ibi turned to Zion. At that moment, Ibi’s eyes were warmly curved.

Perplexed by this unfamiliar smile, Zion hesitated, and Yubia, who was subtly observing him, was convinced.

“It’s pretty hot.”

Yubia’s sarcasm made Zion, already feeling the heat, a bit more uncomfortable.

Although the weather wasn’t hot enough to feel the heat, Zion felt hot nonetheless.

Because the situation was just not appropriate.

In reality, Zion had expected Ibi to feel embarrassed or ticklish when she saw him. He regretted the self-raised issue.

So he was anticipating Ibi Ariate’s distress, but things took an unexpected turn.

Ibi shattered his expectations once again, further confusing him. It was as if she was becoming cute like someone else.

“Yubia, bring some plates to the table.”

While Zion tried to understand Ibi’s intentions, Ibi called Yubia.

The meticulously set table once again made Zion ponder.

“…What’s going on?”

Ibi’s cleverly prepared dishes included stew with white beans and red sausages, an omelette made with potatoes and eggs, and bread with black olives. It was a slightly luxurious home-cooked meal commonly seen in the southern part of Viss.

Simultaneously, all of them subtly aligned with Zion’s preferences.

Zion, suspecting it was a coincidence, sneakily glanced at Ibi. Their eyes met.

For some reason, Ibi was looking at Zion. Moreover, when their eyes met, she grinned. This made Zion feel stifled as if he had done something wrong.

“What’s going on?”

Zion couldn’t comprehend the situation where Ibi Ariate, wearing an apron for him, was cooking and smiling so kindly.

He remembered it vividly. A few weeks ago at the Tuhua mansion, Ibi climbing up to the ceiling on her own, leaving him behind. And how she bit her knuckles, scraped her knees, and bit the back of her hand.
No, there was no need to go back just a few weeks ago. The incident that tormented the Montla Viscount occurred just a few days ago.

Ibi, who had shed her pretense, was a cheeky troublemaker who could easily compete with Zion’s nine-year-old disciple, and she didn’t hide this fact from Zion at all, at least until they met again today.

‘But why is she suddenly acting so modest? Or is it just me? Am I overthinking this?’

Zion restrained himself from probing into such thoughts and remained cautious of Ibi.

Even so, amidst it all, Ibi, with a bright smile, gestured playfully at the dining table, implying that he should try the meal.

Zion felt a chill for some reason, but reluctantly picked up the utensils. He then scooped up the most straightforward stew and put it in his mouth.

At that moment, unexpectedly, Ibi asked in a timid voice, “Does it suit your taste?”

“Just fine.”

Feeling that it was a question filled with anticipation, Zion intentionally replied nonchalantly.

He wanted to hear words of gratitude after she had gone to the trouble of preparing the meal. If he heard such words, his stifled emotions might improve a bit.

However, contrary to Zion’s expectations, Ibi didn’t get angry. Instead, she seemed quite relieved, as if a weight had been lifted off her chest.

“Thank goodness. I was worried since it’s my first time making it.”

‘Why is she like this, seriously…’

Zion’s insides began to feel increasingly frustrated and uneasy.

As Zion stared stiffly, Ibi smiled brightly again. Consequently, Zion had no choice but to endure the situation, not even realizing the taste of the stew he had just swallowed.

The meal, stained with Ibi’s cheerful demeanor, finally came to an end.

Feeling somehow emotionally torn, Zion washed the dishes with a disgruntled expression.

“Is it cold now?”

Yubia, lounging next to the sink, asked with a curious look.

“Your face has turned pale.”

While glaring at this innocent yet ominous guy, Zion recalled his previous failure. So, instead of an indirect attack that wouldn’t get through, he opted for a direct attack, wiping soap bubbles onto the guy’s eyes and hands.

“Ugh!”