The Number One Star in the Interstellar Era

The dining area on the spaceship wasn't very large, but it could comfortably seat around 15 people. He glanced around at everyone, noticing their expressions of amazement as they took in the dishes he had prepared. A satisfied smile spread across his lips.

Hildred stared at the food on the table, amazed by what he saw. The dishes were laid out neatly, each one looking better than the last. The smell was incredible, filling the room with a mix of savory and rich aromas that made his stomach growl. He couldn't believe that Astrid had made all of this. He didn't recognize most of the dishes, but that only made it more amazing.

Even though Ed had assured him that Astrid could cook, Hildred couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive. After all, Ed was such a sweetheart that he wouldn't dare criticize anyone's cooking, no matter how bad it might be. And then there was Wulf, who seemed almost reluctant to let them try Astrid's food.

At first glance, it might have seemed like Wulf was trying to keep all the deliciousness to himself, as if the food was too good to share. But the truth was, Wulf's behavior was more about his possessiveness—he had fallen for Astrid so deeply that even something as simple as his cooking felt personal to him.

As he brought the fork to his mouth, Hildred braced himself, half-expecting the taste to fall short of the visual appeal. But the moment the chicken touched his tongue, his eyes widened in surprise. The flavors were incredible—tender, succulent meat bathed in a sauce that was both tangy and subtly sweet, with just the right amount of spice.

Hildred couldn't help but smile, realizing that Astrid's cooking wasn't just beautiful to look at—it was truly delicious.

"This is amazing, Astrid," he couldn't help but say.

Astrid glanced at Hildred, recognizing that this was likely the first genuine compliment he had received from him since they met. A natural smile spread across his lips as he responded, "Thank you."

It wasn't just Hildred who was surprised by the delicious food—Anthony, Astrid's estranged grandfather, was equally taken aback. As he tasted the first bite, his fork paused mid-air, and a wave of emotions flickered across his face. The flavors were rich and expertly balanced, far beyond what he had expected. But as he continued to eat, a tightness settled in his chest.

The delight he felt was tinged with guilt, a pang of regret creeping in with each bite. Discover stories with m,v l'e|m-p| y r

Although he was glad to finally taste his grandson's cooking, Anthony couldn't shake the unease that settled in the back of his mind. The food was undeniably delicious, a testament to Astrid's skill, but that only deepened his concern. What circumstances had led Astrid to develop such expertise? What challenges or hardships had he faced to hone this level of talent?

As he savored each bite, these thoughts continued to linger.

If Astrid could have read his thoughts, he might have looked at him with a touch of pity, and maybe even laugh a little, and said, 'No, Your Grace, we didn't suffer or live in hardship. I'm a good cook because it's a skill I've carried over from my previous life, much like my talent for acting.'

"Brother Aster, your cooking is absolutely the best," Nicol exclaimed, digging in with enthusiasm. "Honestly, if you opened a restaurant, it would be an instant success."

"I don't think so," Wulfric suddenly said.

Nicol turned to Wulfric and glared. "Why would you say that? You don't think Brother Aster is good enough to open his own restaurant?"

Wulfric gave Nicol a look, as if he were a child who didn't quite understand the bigger picture—which, in a way, he was. "It's because he's too good," Wulfric said, his tone serious. "No chef out there could match him. If Aster isn't the one in the kitchen, the restaurant wouldn't be the same. So, what's the point?

Or are you suggesting that Aster should give up his dream of being an actor just to become a chef?"

Nicol's eyes widened in surprise as Wulfric's words sank in. It was only now that he realized Wulfric was right. He pursed his lips, clearly reluctant, before admitting, "You have a point." Turning to Astrid, he added apologetically, "Sorry, Brother Aster, I didn't fully consider that."

Wulfric nodded, then turned to Aster with a look that clearly said, 'See? I'm better than that kid.'

Astrid was both amused and slightly exasperated by the two. Still, he couldn't help but smile, shaking his head at their playful banter. Instead of responding, he picked up a piece of meat and placed one on Wulfric's plate and another on Nicol's.

"Just eat."

That simple gesture seemed to redirect their focus back to eating.

Everyone at the table witnessed the exchange, but the only ones who reacted were the Grimaldi brothers.

The others were either preoccupied or unfazed: the duke remained lost in his own thoughts, Edmund and Hildred were entirely focused on their food, Slade, who were surprised at first, didn't really care much to dwell on it, and Reas, already accustomed to such dynamics, didn't give it much thought.

Wulfric's behavior mostly surprised Casey and Thomas. They hadn't expected him to be so at ease and playful around Astrid. The way he was acting was almost... child-like.

What they were witnessing was completely different from the image they had of the prince. Seeing him so relaxed and open made his earlier confession about falling in love with their nephew even more believable. They honestly weren't sure how to process it.

"Reas, is he, I mean, is the prince always like this?" Casey finally asked in a low voice, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

Reas glanced at Wulfric before replying, not bothering to lower his voice, knowing the general's SSS physique meant he would hear it, anyway. "Yeah, and sometimes he's even worse. You might as well get used to it."

Casey showed a slightly horrified expression at the thought that the prince's antics could get worse than this.