Diarmuid knows his lover is far from clever in dealing with everyday situations. Her clumsiness can become quite lethal when it comes to culinary matters. That, he has no doubts.

For everyone’s sake, this is the first and also the last time he should ever let her enter the kitchen.

He has no idea of what she brings out of the oven and presents to him. It is smoky, it is jet-black and it smells like coal. Had he not seen her taking it out of the oven, he would likely mistake it for a piece of coal.

Whatever ingredients she put in are of no avail; there is absolutely no way this ‘thing’ can be edible. Still, being a gentle lover that he is, Diarmuid takes a bite anyway.

He had not tasted poisons but he is pretty sure poisons should have a better flavor than this dish of hers. It is even worse than the dried lizard Oscar roasted and dipped into his bowl of soup as a sort of prank.

He tries to wash down whatever left in his mouth with a glass full of water. Hiding his discomfort, Diarmuid puts down the empty glass and turns to his lover.

“Allow me to serve you next time.”

He kisses her deeply so as not to allow her a chance to react to his sudden assault on her subtle lips. While she was entranced by the intercourse of lips and tongues, the knight of the Fianna secretly disposes of the dish.

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