As someone knocked on the door, Northern furrowed his brows in slight irritation. He was standing on one of the steps of a ladder, reading a thick tome with one hand.

Of course, this was just one of the many things he was doing.

He was also currently climbing up another ladder.

There was another of him pulling books from shelves and tossing them to the ground, while three more stood below—catching them and judging each by its cover. They were searching for something specific.

Another walked along the ground between the massive shelves. Yet another sat in an alcove corner, reading with a cup of coffee in hand.

One might have been tempted to think the one drinking coffee was the real Northern.

It wasn't.

Northern let that clone handle the intake of brown caffeine, so when he needed the bodily function, he'd simply switch consciousness to that particular body. He was too busy searching for a clue right now to actually care about drinking coffee.

Which was why the knock on the door was extra irritating.

He didn't have any more clones to spare, so he had to recall the one that had been with his mother and everyone else all along.

The clone appeared before the door and pulled it open.

Roma peeked through, looking carefully before she stepped in fully. She was holding two long boxes in her hands, and as she entered, she keenly studied the Northern that had opened the door for her.

"You're not the real one, right?"

"I'm real nonetheless." Northern smirked.

But Roma walked past him, down the stairs, and settled at the center table that greeted the entrance to the massive library.

With one sweep of her hand, she shifted all the scattered books on the table aside and placed the boxes down with a satisfying exhale.

Meanwhile, Northern frowned at her actions from the top of the ladder.

"Hey! What are you—those are important!"

Roma looked up at him, her expression deadpan.

"So is eating. Come here…"

Northern sighed from the distance, already looking away.

"I had dinner with your father already."

She folded her arms over her chest.

"Yes, as a clone. But I bet the real you's stomach is groaning and begging for food right now. Besides, this food is special—I made it with my mother."

Northern paused and looked away from the book.

"With your mother?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Judging from your reaction, I guess father mentioned it already." She sighed. "What am I going to do with that man."

She looked at Northern again.

"My mom is stubborn. She wanted to prepare something special for you when Rieran and I gisted her about the whole thing today. She said strong men who aren't evil deserve a big and hearty meal. Because it takes true strength to have all that power and still not decide to act as you want."

Northern frowned subtly.

"That's wrong… I do act as I will."

Roma heaved an exasperated sigh at him. "You know what I mean. Evil. You're not evil."

His brows stayed furrowed.

"That's actually depending on which lens you see it from."

'Good and evil. Such simplistic terms for things that were far more complicated.'

He wasn't a saint. He knew that better than anyone. But he also wasn't about to argue philosophy with someone trying to feed him.

Roma closed her eyes for a moment, lowering her head. When she raised it again, there was a smile on her face.

"Rian, please come down and eat now."

Northern observed her for a few moments, then closed the book in his hands. He vanished into his own shadow, emerging from the one cast by the shelf closest to Roma, and casually walked forward to sit in the chair opposite her.

Roma smiled with delight and began to undo the layers of boxes. As she lifted the lids, vapor swirled out and the rich aroma of delicacies filled the library in seconds.

There was rich vegetable soup. Meat soup. Mountain rice and a whole chicken—marinated and braised in its own broth until the meat practically fell from the bone.

Roma explained each dish as she set the table before him, while Northern watched with undisguised amusement, almost shaking his head and licking his lips.

She finally held a spoon in her hand and offered him one. Northern looked at her with slight confusion.

"You're going to eat it with me?"

Roma grimaced at him.

"You want to eat it alone?"

Northern looked away, focusing on the spread of meals before him.

"I mean… since you said your mom cooked it to appreciate me for my strength, I naturally assumed…" He trailed off. "Was it wrong to assume?"

Roma shook her head.

"Hm, hm, it's all for you actually. But if you want me to keep my hands off, then—"

"Please. Thank you." Northern interrupted immediately.

She was shaken to her core.

Her mouth stayed open as she processed what had just happened. There was no hesitation at all. Just raw, unapologetic claim to every morsel on that table.

'Did he just—'

Meanwhile, Northern—with starlight dancing in his eyes—began to try one of everything. He tore into the meat first, pushing it gently into his mouth and nodding as the sweet taste of the seasoning settled across his tongue.

'Now this is worth being interrupted for.'

He moved to take a spoonful of the vegetable soup, then tried the mountain rice. It was very different from the rice he used to eat growing up.

Mountain rice grew at the higher altitudes, so there was a richness and softness to it that produced the best taste with certain seasonings—flavors that normal lowland rice simply couldn't achieve. Moreover, it was natural and couldn't be cultivated by hand.

'It only makes sense that they have a lot of these, actually.'

He continued trying different combinations, mentally cataloging the impact each had on his taste buds and his stomach, while Roma sat still—forced to salivate at a meal she'd cooked with her own mother, one she had been absolutely certain she would get to try.

'If I knew he was going to be like this, I would have just not packed everything.'

Northern certainly never hesitated to burst her bubbles.

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