I could only sigh as I closed the door behind me, and headed up to the second floor to go make Feliza her meal. I'd have to prepare something that could fit her current situation, something healthy and easy to eat.

Maybe a sweet herb-enriched oatmeal porridge? That definitely seemed like something that would boost her current situation, especially with the added energy.

She was in obvious need of some more power to her body, so I might have to make a lot of the porridge.

However, my thoughts weren't centered on the food I was going to make for Feliza, nor about her injuries.

My mind was currently overwhelmed by the words spoken by that two year old. Our conversation was short, but I could glean off an idea of what the young child's mindset was.

"Why are you so nice to me?" I can recall that sentence uttered by that kid, and it was as if those words were being rebounded throughout my mind, almost as if the culprit herself was saying that statement over and over again right next to my ear.

And that concerned me greatly to no avail.

Why would such a young child like her ask the reason why I was nice to her? Why did she want to know why I was nice to her, rather than others in my age range?

Why was she so paranoid? What happened to this poor girl that made her frantically try to figure out the reason why someone had to be nice?

All those thoughts came rushing to my head, and I couldn't help but feel dread about Feliza's state of mind.

The words that girl said to me reeked of desperation, and a pleading of understanding. A last ditch effort to try to find some kind of link that she could use to try to make some solidified emotional connection.

As much as I'd like to extend that invitation forward, I honestly think that Feliza would slap away that request hard. After all, there was no reason to trust me yet.

I could still tell that the trust between us was still being built. There was just no way one can make hard and true connections in one day.

Villages weren't constructed in fifteen days, and I expect the same to be applied to trust. After all, building a relationship was similar to the act of creating a house: you needed to make blocks for the support, and you needed the mortar to seal those blocks in.

I was still in the process of laying down the foundation, and I was nowhere near the point of being able to try to create a wall. If I attempted to rush too quickly, I would simply have a misshapen house that would immediately fall down and crush me with suspicion and utter betrayal.

No, I needed to take my time and make sure that I could proceed without having to take a step back. If I wanted a shot at becoming closer to Feliza, then I'd need to move cautiously, as if I was being forced to step on eggshells.

After all, no one deserved to be completely alone.

When I finally snapped out of those thoughts, I had found myself in front of the kitchen door and with my hand on the door.

I shook my head, and entered the room without a hint of hesitation. I needed to get cooking and ensure that Feliza could eat something healthy and nutritious.

I began my prep work to get started on the cooking process. I got a metal pot and a good amount of dried oats, along with a bowl of warm honey. I also grabbed a bunch of Sichen leaves, Avadol berries, and some ginger.

This blend of herbs would be perfect to help out Feliza's current state. The Sichen leaves would help calm her mind down, the Avadol berries would bring back a lot of energy to her body, and the ginger would help take down the soreness of her muscles.

I took the pot and headed downstairs to the well quickly, and began to work the mechanism. I connected the pot to the rope and began to work the pulley so that I could collect some water.

Within moments, I had filled the pot full of water, and I began to carry the heavy pot with all my might. With my best efforts and all my strength, I barely managed to get the pot up to the kitchen once more.

I could have gotten the guards to do that task for me, but they probably couldn't figure out how to work the well in the first place.

I lit a fire inside the oven and placed the pot over the top, making sure that the placement was just right so that I wouldn't get any boiling water on my body or the fire.

With that done, I pulled my hair back and got out a kitchen knife. I started to chop all the herbs to a smaller size, just enough that the bits wouldn't choke Feliza on accident.

After I finished chopping the herbs, the waft of lemon, honey, ginger, and strawberries overwhelmed the whole kitchen. But, I was not close to done, and I noticed that the water was slowly beginning to boil.

I dumped in the Sichen leaves into the water to make a pseudo-tea, and then began to grab some seasonings to help flavor the water for porridge.

Some basic salt should do the trick. I threw in a handful of salt into the boiling water, and got the barrel of oats away from the wall. I popped open the lid, and was greeted by a small sea of grains, just begging to be used.

I grabbed a wooden bowl and began the process. I scooped up a bowlful of oats and carefully dumped them inside the boiling water, before I did the same process over again.

I only stopped when I filled the pot halfway with grains. I put the bowl back down on the table and put the lid down on the barrel once more, before putting the heavy container back to its original position.

I know I was making way too much, but to be honest, this dish wasn't just for Feliza. I needed some kind of better oatmeal in my life, and this was the perfect way to experience new flavors.

I grabbed a long wooden spoon and began to stir. I kept mixing and mixing, making sure that the oatmeal didn't burn or scald in the water.

I began to sweat heavily from the heat of the fire, but I kept going. This was good practice for me, and I was learning more and more about cooking. It wasn't everyday that I would use the kitchen for my own personal use, and I found myself having a bit of fun with this.

Maybe I should cook my meals more often. There'd at least be flavors that I enjoyed present in the meal.

When most of the water had disappeared, I made the final moves to finish this dish once and for all. I quickly grabbed some towels and made a pad from the cloth.

Hopefully, the pot wouldn't start a fire from its absurd heat. I grabbed some more towels and lifted the pot by the handle, before setting it down on the makeshift padding I had made.

Thankfully, the towels didn't start burning, and I could only sigh in relief. Right now was the time to make this dish the best oatmeal porridge that anyone has ever eaten!

I threw in the cut Avadol berries and the minced ginger, and mixed the meal quickly. Then, I poured in the warm honey.

It was as if the honey was waiting for this moment, as the golden liquid began to dash out slowly, like a waterfall trapped in a moment of slowed time.

I wasn't going to wait all day, so I hurried the process by using my wooden spoon to grab all the honey from the bowl and force it into the porridge. Then, I began to stir quickly and heartily, keeping an eye on the mixture as I did so.

The sugar particles in the honey began to dissolve into the oatmeal porridge, with the minced ginger melting inside the hot liquid. The Avadol berries, in contrast, appeared to bloom and swell in size, almost as though they were getting fatter off the remaining water in the pot.

Then, out of nowhere, the berries began to leak their juices, soaking into the porridge and turning the mixture into a dark-red color.

I didn't know what to do besides to keep on stirring. What other option was there? Obviously none, so this was the best thing I could do at the end.

After all of that, I had in front of me a bright-red oatmeal porridge that smelt like a sweet honey lemon tea, with mint and strawberries brewed in.

I took the bowl I had used previously to scoop up the grains, and poured myself a small amount. After all, a good cook needed to taste their food, so I would have to eat this creation and ensure this was actually edible.

I took a large spoonful of the food, and I could tell that the smell was getting even more stronger the closer it got. Now that I had this dish close to my mouth, I got hit with the full effects of the scent of this dish.

The impact of this aroma made me relaxed, almost as if I was just in my study, leaning back into some pillows and enjoying a well-written book.

I shook my head, getting those thoughts out of my head. I could enjoy these sensations later, for now I had to eat.

I took a bite out of the food and began to chew.

Instantly, I was thrown off a loop. The lemon flavor was not overwhelming nor strong, rather, the bitterness had been blended with the honey to the point of perfection. The ginger added a nice spicy kick to the blend of lemon, honey, and mint, but not enough to overwhelm the dish. The Avadol berries had added an earthy sweetness to the dish, and had complimented the mint flavors of the Sichen leaves greatly.

I could feel my body get a rush, and I wanted to do some more activities at the moment. I felt better mentally and physically, and I could feel myself relaxing bit by bit.

The result? I had a porridge meal that was well-balanced in the taste and was capable of providing a healthy boost to the body in every way. Absolutely perfect and well fitted for Feliza to eat up whole-heartedly.

Thankfully, I was aware of her big appetite, which she probably had gotten from her older sister Nellie. I still hope that Feliza doesn't follow too closely in the steps of her older sister, and somehow manage to eat six chicken dinners in one sitting.

I stopped what I was doing and looked at the bowl I was holding in my hand. This was going to be too little for Feliza, I should get something larger.

I went through my storage, looking for a big dish to dump the porridge in. Thankfully, I managed to find a bowl large enough that I needed two hands to carry the whole thing.

I proceeded to pour oatmeal into the bowl straight from the pot, since trying to scoop the mixture up by hand would have taken way too long. I filled just enough that the vessel was half-way full, just so I could actually carry the darn thing.

I walked carefully, making sure that I didn't trip on anything. I did not want to get hot porridge all over my body or my clothes, so I needed to be cautious and ensure I was stable.

When I made it to the study, I silently opened the door with my right foot, and peeked my head in.

Feliza was sleeping peacefully, almost as if she was nothing more than a baby enjoying their bed. Shoot, she was asleep. Guess that means I can't make much noise, otherwise I would wake her up and ruin her good dreams.

I slowly opened the door and made sure that it did not make a single creak. Once I was able to fit through the doorway, I began to sneak in and quietly moved over to the desk.

Step by step, I took every diligent course to ensure that I made the least amount of noise. I kept taking quick looks at Feliza, making sure that she didn't stir in her sleep or get too uncomfortable by the sounds I was making.

Once I arrived at my destination, I set the bowl down carefully, making sure that I did not spill a single drop. Then, I snuck back to the kitchen, grabbed a spoon, then went all the way back to put the utensil into the bowl.

Then, I simply left the room once more and closed the door softly, before turning and heading to the front door.

That was the plan, at least until the entrance to the building was flung open, with two guards standing there, sweating and shaking, with a girl and a woman with them.