"Business," Yulia said, leaning back with a satisfied hum.

"I need my own pocket money. I can't keep asking you for an allowance, can I?"

She didn't mention the massive loans she'd already 'borrowed' for the construction in the Old Pigeon Cage district—loans she had promised to pay back double with a series of wildly optimistic IOUs.

"So people come to the cafeteria to eat, and you come to get rich?"

Yulia straightened her linen collar, her chin tilting up. "Exactly. They spend, I earn. That makes me the superior one here."

Caerus offered a faint, dry smile. He looked at the girl who found pride in manual labor and high-profit margins.

"So... the tomato pot?" Yulia asked, leaning in. "I can make it. The ingredients here are actually decent, even if the cooking is a disaster. But... are you sure you don't want the dumplings? I call them the 'G.O.A.T.' of cuisine.".

"Better than the pot?"

Yulia gave him a firm thumbs-up. "Trust me."

Loren Eir stepped out of the Principal's office, his brow furrowed in thought. Elias had given him a story about Caerus being a distant relative—a studious mage from a border kingdom who had spent his life in isolation.

Loren remained skeptical. No one shared a name with the Dragon by accident.

"Sir Loren!" Daisy hurried toward him, her cheeks flushed as she caught her breath. "I heard you were seeing the Principal again. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Just business," Loren said, his voice stiff. He looked at the girl who was now his unofficial fiancée. She was kind and gentle, a stark contrast to the memory of the "Imperial Rose" he had sent to her death.

"Can we eat?" Daisy asked, grabbing his sleeve with a shy, practiced courage. "Just at the cafeteria? I won't take much of your time."

Loren couldn't refuse. They walked toward the hall, passing students who watched them with a mix of envy and awe.

As they entered, the usual quiet of the dining hall was gone. A crowd of noble-born mages was huddled around the kitchen door, their heads pressed together as they sniffed the air.

"Is that Lillia girl cooking again?"

"I saw her with the flour!"

"I offered five gold and she turned me down! I'll go to ten if she makes another batch!"

Loren had spent years at Gaia Academy, but he had never seen the elite students act like starving beggars at a kitchen door.

He and Daisy exchanged a look before moving closer, trying to catch the scent of whatever was causing the madness.

"Lord Loren!"

The crowd of students parted like a tide, clearing a path for Loren Eir and Daisy Vale.

"Buying the dumplings? You're out of luck," a student whispered, looking up at the knight. "Madame Doris says they're off-limits. Special order for Professor Caerus from Miss Lillia Bird."

Loren's brow furrowed at the sound of the name. "Professor Caerus? And who exactly is this Miss Lillia?"

The students exchanged glances. Everyone remembered how he had been snubbed in the corridor earlier.

"The girl with the professor... surely you remember," someone muttered.

Loren's face remained a mask of stoic, silver-ash resolve. "What is her relationship to him?"

Daisy's fingers tightened on his heavy silver sleeve.

"Probably nothing," a voice offered. "They just saw the Principal together."

"If they were close, would he have paid a mountain of gold for one plate?"

"A mountain?" Daisy gasped, her hazel eyes wide. "For food?"

"It's not just food," a minor prince added, his voice solemn. "Everything I've eaten for seventeen years was trash compared to this."

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Steam erupted from the kitchen. Yulia—acting as Lillia—used a water pot to steam the batches, twenty at a time.

The dumplings sat on dark porcelain, their skins translucent like wet pearls.

Yulia ignored the eyes at the door. To her, a former fiancé was better off treated as if he were in a grave.

"Ordinary," Caerus said, his grey-blue eyes tracing the steam.

Yulia handed him a spoon and a fork—chopsticks were a myth in this world.

"Hope you like the taste of your own words," she chirped, leaning back against the counter.

Caerus didn't expect much from the dough. Then he poked the skin.

Soup hit his tongue. The rich, savory heat of the meat exploded in his mouth.

He took one polite bite. Then he stopped thinking. He inhaled the rest of the plate in seconds.

Ordinary? He could eat twenty more.

Yulia watched his hands. He didn't offer flowery praise like the others, but his speed told the story.

"Money well spent?" she asked, her sapphire eyes bright.

Caerus cut a sharp look at her. To him, the gold was a speck in a vault; to her, it was a triumph.

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Daisy stared through the kitchen doorway at the girl with the golden-sand hair.

"Lillia... Yulia..." Daisy whispered. "Loren, don't the names sound... similar?"

Loren didn't look away from the girl in the kitchen. "Just a name," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

He watched the flour on the girl's cheek. She looked... happy. The Imperial Rose he knew would never touch a kitchen ladle.

"Can I help you?" Yulia asked. Her voice turned to ice as she spotted the pair.

Loren stepped into the heat of the kitchen. "Miss Lillia Bird. We meet again."

"We heard about the dumplings," Loren said, his tone perfectly polite. "May we have the honor of buying a plate?"

Yulia looked at the fresh batch on the counter.

"No."

Loren blinked. "Excuse me?"

"New rule," Yulia said, her sapphire eyes unblinking. "No sales to couples. Sorry."

"That's absurd!" Daisy cried. "I heard anyone with gold—"

"Just added it," Yulia interrupted.

"We aren't a couple," Loren blurted. "Just friends."

Daisy froze. Her hazel eyes flared with shock. He had denied her. In public. For a dumpling.

Yulia stared. Brother, it's not that deep. You didn't have to break up for a snack.

"Newer rule," Caerus said. He picked up Yulia's half-finished milk tea and took a slow, natural sip.

"Blond knights in silver armor can't buy. Girls with walnut hair can't buy. Clear enough?"

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Yulia left the remaining dumplings with Madame Doris. The pink-clad woman handed over a heavy sack of gold.

"The recipe is perfect, Miss Lillia," Doris beamed. "We'll have them in the hall tomorrow. Commission for you, of course."

Yulia skipped down the path toward the dorms, the gold clinking at her waist.

"That happy?" Caerus asked, his hands tucked into his black robes.

"Who isn't happy with gold?" Yulia grinned. "You like it more than me. Look at your vault. Mountains of it."

"I don't like it," Caerus countered. "It's just... aesthetically pleasing."

"Whatever you say, boss. This is my stop. Goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Caerus looked at the iron gates of the girls' dormitory.

The gate swung open. Caerus stepped through without slowing down.

Yulia followed, her mouth agape. The dorms were divided—east for the royals, west for the commoners.

Stone houses, gardens, and locked gates.