Once A Princess, Now A Slave

44

Kelsie's POV

The smile on Connor's face seems permanent. Since we exited my room and went here to the kitchen, he still wears that smile.

I am boiling the pasta on medium heat. Afterward, I grab the tray of the ingredients that I will be using for cooking carbonara.

Connor is sitting on the high stool with his arms on the table and his fingers tapping on it while watching me cook our food.

We have our cook here, but I told him to leave the kitchen first, since I know I got this. I don't like cooking or cleaning, or doing anything whenever someone's in the same room as me. I tried to push Connor out of the kitchen earlier, but he's so stubborn so I gave in. If I continued shoving him away, we couldn't eat our late lunch earlier.

"Stop grinning, Connor," I said.

I am facing the boiling pot, waiting for my pasta to soften. Even though my back is facing him, I can still sense the grin on his face.

"I'm not. I'm smiling,'' he replied.

I sighed and faced him. I cross my arms over my chest without dropping the rubber thong that I am using to check if the pasta is perfectly cooked.

"Is it true?" he asked.

My brows furrowed. "What?" I confusingly replied.

"About what you said earlier."

My brows are now wanting to meet each other. I said plenty of things earlier. What was he pertaining to?

"The one where you said that if you marry someone, you want to be the first wife,' he answered.

It took me a second before realizing that he had once again read my thoughts.

I'm getting used to it already. I know it's not entirely his fault to read my fully-exposed thoughts in a room that only the two of us occupy.

I sigh. "Wo wouldn't want to be the first?" I replied.

"Stop using that tactic on me. Answer me directly," he ordered. But unlike the way he commands me in bed, he sounds cheerful and goofy right now.

"Of course, I want to be the first wife that my man will marry. As I said, first times always hits differently. It is your pure reaction to something new to you. That's why it's important to me," I answered.

The sound of the boiling water behind me caught my attention. I face my pasta. Since the pot has a transparent glass lid, I can see the pasta looking saggy and swimming along with the boiling hot water.

My eyes widen. Since I am out of focus and already panicking, I touched the handle of the lid without thinking clearly. As soon as my skin touched it and my fingers managed to slightly lift it, I unintentionally dropped it back.

"Ouch!" I winced.

The lid fell out of the pot and dropped to the floor. The sound of the breaking of glass enveloped the kitchen.

Connor aggressively stand on his seat and rushed towards me, while I instinctively pressed my burned finger onto my lips.

"That's not the right way to cure that!" he angrily said.

He ignored the broken pieces of glass scattered on our feet and grabbed my arm. He quickly switched off the stove and carefully pulled me towards the sink and placed my burned finger under the faucet. He switched it on and let the cold water run through my hand and finger.

I look at him intently. His eyes are all focused on my burned finger which for the record, isn't a major injury at all.

"Connor, I'm fine," I said.

I gently pulled my arm back. He looked at me with concerned eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked again. I nod.

I flashed a smile at him to assure him that everything was fine. I shake my hand to somehow dry my wet hand. Connor grabbed the nearest tissue paper and tear it. He handed it to me. I gradually accepted it. "Thanks," I uttered.

I wipe my hand dry. Unconsciously, a genuine smile appeared on my lips.

"You just burned yourself and now you're smiling?" he commented. "What's on your mind?" he asked.

I lift my head to look at him and notice that he is already holding a broom and a small trash can in both of his hands.

"And now you're asking me what's on my mind? You can simply read my thoughts," I responded.

"Just want you to know that I was too preoccupied with what happened to you that your transparent thought did not seem to be transparent to me."

"I told you, I'm fine," I once again assured him.

"Well, I'm not." He started sweeping the broken lid on the floor. He knelt on one of his legs to pick up the large broken pieces and carefully toss them into the trash bin that he is holding.

My smile went wide. The sides of my lips stretch up to my ear.

It's been only weeks since I became an orphan but it felt like a lifetime. I missed the feeling of someone making me feel loved, seen, and cared for.

I was so used to being independent that it made me forget how it felt to have someone showing how they care for you.

I pursed my lips to stop myself from smiling like an i***t. Now, I need to think of a solution for how I would deal with our supposed lunch.

"Uhmm, Connor?" I called.

"Yeah?" He answered. He just stood on his feet after cleaning all the mess I made. I grimaced.

I volunteered on cooking our food for lunch so I can show him that I can be someone he can count on in a house, but look at where we ended up.

"Uhm, maybe we should call back our cook. I already ruined our food." I take a peek at the still-hot water. The pasta that I cooked is now swimming with some small broken pieces of glass from the lid. It's too dangerous to eat it.

"I think we should throw them away. After all, the pasta is also overcooked," I said.

Connor placed the trash bin on the side. He then walk towards me. He checked the pot and srcutinize it.

"The broken glass won't stick on the pasta. Also, the pasta isn't that overcooked. It will do," he says, nodding his head.

I peek on the pot. "Are you sure?" I asked.

He is an alpha-- the most skilled and respected here in our pack. What if he will eat the pasta that I cooked because he doesn't want to hurt my feelings and suddenly, there's a small broken glass that is not visible in the n***d-eye and then it accidentally pierced onto his throat and he will--

"Kelsie, stop with your imaginative thoughts," he said.

I immediately frowned. So, now he can read my mind? Ugh! Why does if I don't want him to read my thoughts, that's exactly the time he'll read my mind?!

"Trust me, this will do," he said.

"Fine. Just don't die while eating that, okay?" I said.

He only chuckled and volunteered to strain the pasta. I started cooking the white sauce. Since carbonara is my go-to food, means it is the food that I usually cook whenever I am tasked to cook or whenever I am hungry and I do not know what to eat, it is possible for me to cook the sauce within five minutes.

Connor prepared the pasta and transferred it on a big bowl while I put the sauce into a separate container.

We both carry them and place on the dining table. There are already utensils placed on the tables, even on the chairs that no one will be using since I and Connor are the only one who are going to eat my overcooked and almost failed carbonara.

I look at the pasta. Since it was overcooked, some of it were broken into tny bits of pieces while most of them looked saggy and sticky.

"Alright, let's eat!" he announced and cheerfully went to the left chair and sat.

"Hey, your seat is up there," I pointed the chair in the middle with my lips.

He just shake his head and shrugged. "I want you to sit right beside me," he tapped the vacant chair beside him.

I bite my inner cheeks to stop myself from smiling.

I walk towards the empty chair beside him and sit.

"Let's eat," he said.

I look at the saggy pasta in front of us. Good thing I did a great job (somehow) on cooking it.

"Are you sure about this? You know, we can just ask our cook to cook steak--"

"You want steak?" he asked.

I pouted. I tried to hide the disappointment in my face, but I guess I couldn't hide anything from him.

"Don't get me wrong. I am actually asking you if you want steak. I am not using it to not eat the food that you cooked," he explained.

"I did not say anything!" I replied.

"You don't have to. It's written all over your face," he answered.

"But do you want steak?" I asked.

He scooped a spoonful of pasta and sauce and mixed them all together in his plate. He then looked at me.

"Nope. I'm good with this," he said and twirl the pasta around the teeth of the fork. He lift it up and shove it into his mouth. He then wink at me while chewing his food.

I did not notice that I am already smiling.

I pick up my fork and started eating my food.

I wasn't lying. It's true that my pasta was overcooked. Fortunately, Connor loves me enough to eat my failed food.

I took a spoonful of my pasta. I nod my head while tasting it. Not to boast, but even thiugh it was overcooked, it is not that bad.

"Come here..."

He caught my attention. I looked up to him. His thimb reach ti the side of my lip and wipe the sauce that probably spilled. He then suck his finger and continued eating casually-- as if he did not do something that makes my insides rumble!

We are enjoying our late lunch here when suddenly, Gia appeared out of nowhere.

Her chest is rising up and down. She pointed her finger on the hallway while trying to catch her breath. She lean her free hand on the wall while composing herself.

"What is it?" I asked.

"P-Princess..." she stuttered while still pointing to nowhere.

"Calm down first," Connor added.

I nod, agreeing to what my boyfriend said.

It took her a couple of seconds before she managed to compose herself.

"Princess... alpha..." she said in a slightly nervous tone.

"What is it?" I asked impatiently.

"Mr. and Mrs. Maccon are on their way here."

My jaw dropped along with the fork that I am holding. My heart started pounding loudly.

"W-what?" I uttered in almost a whisper.

I feel like my heart wants to jump out of my ribcage. My nerves are all shaking but when I turn to face Connor, he looks calm and casually eating his food.

"Do you know anything about this?" I askedz I wanted to raise my voice but I couldn't find the courage to do so.

Connor just shake his head and took another spoonful of the pasta.

"I doubt it! You should have known!" I hit his arm out of frustration. I look down on what I am wearing. I shut my eyes closed and mentally slap my forehead.

I am still wearing my cycling shorts and tank top! What would Mr. and Mrs. Maccon will say? Add the fact that I am in the dining table with their son and only wearing this?!

"Are you sure you don't know that they will visit you today?" I asked again.

Ugh! This is stressing me out.

He calmly dropped his fork and reach for the glass of water in front of him. I glance at the door, his parents are still aren't here. They are probably talking to some omegas that they bump into. After years of being with their family, I notice that they are a little friendly to the helpers. Maybe that is why they are blessed-- because they all have a good heart.

"They once told me that they will visit me one of these days to check the Alpha's house and if I am taking care of it. I did not know it will be today," he said.

See? I told you that he knows!

"Should I change my clothes?" I whispered.

"No need. They kind of aware of how you dressed and they already know you since you were a kid," he answered.

"But still!" I immediately replied.

"Kelsie, you don't have--"

I did not let him finish and stand on my seat. I am already ready to run the distance from the dinning area to my room, but it's now too late.

I am standing on my feet, already at the entrance of the dining when the couple arrived.

Connor's mom was a bit surprised since we almost bump into each other. Her gaze dropped on my body and back to my face.

'Oh, Lord' I wish the floor will ooen and eat me alive!

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Unedited. English is not my first language. My apologies for the grammar, sentence construction, and wrong spelling.

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Once A Princess, Now A Slave

By: Joanne Cristel

©2023