Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!

Cassius stared at the mess, his mind reeling. The sheer, unadulterated speed of Julie's kitchen disasters was...truly something to behold.

He took another deep, shuddering breath, trying to find his inner zen, as he really was on the verge of unleashing a lecture worthy of a tactical debriefing.

But then he saw her face: the downcast eyes, the fidgeting hands, the truly pitiful, heartbroken expression.

His frustration, though still a roaring bonfire, couldn't quite extinguish the tiny flicker of sympathy.

He softened, his tone gentle as he stepped closer. "It's fine, Julie, it's fine." He said, forcing reassurance into his voice as he waved a hand. "We're not done yet. Just move on to the next step, add the sugar. It's right there by the machine."

"...Just be careful this time, okay? Don't step on it." He flashed a small, almost painful smile, his curiosity still burning despite the growing internal inferno of his frustration.

Julie nodded nervously, her voice barely audible as she crouched again, hands shaking as she searched for the sugar packet.

"Okay, sugar, sugar...where is it?" She muttered, brow furrowing as she scanned the ground, even checking under her feet to ensure she hadn't crushed it.

Her voice rose in confusion. "It's...It's not here. Where's the sugar?" Her eyes darted around, posture tense with growing panic.

Aisha, now standing stiffly beside Cassius, raised a trembling finger and pointed into the distance, her voice dropping to a low, chilling murmur filled with disbelief. "Captain...the sugar's over there. And...it's walking away."

Every head snapped in unison, necks cracking like whipcords as their eyes zeroed in on the scene.

There it was. A tiny, squirrel-like creature, a glimmerfur rodent, its fur shimmering faintly under the moonlight as though it had bathed in stardust.

The audacious little beast was scampering away on its stubby legs, the entire packet of sugar somehow balanced precariously on its back like a prize won in some woodland heist.

When it felt someone was staring at it, the creature paused mid-step.

And just as it turned, its beady black eyes met theirs across the field, glinting with the cold determination of a master thief.

Then, as though realizing it had been spotted, it let out a high-pitched squeak of panic and bolted at breakneck speed, the sugar packet bouncing comically with every stride.

Julie's voice cracked the stunned silence, erupting in a shrill, desperate wail. "Cassius, this is NOT my fault!" She screeched, her arms flailing wildly as her eyes bulged in horror. "Don't you dare blame me for this one!"

"That...That demonic furball stole the sugar! How in the stars was I supposed to stop it?!"

She stomped her foot, her face flushed as she gestured frantically at the rapidly disappearing rodent. "It's not my clumsiness this time! You saw it! That was grand theft sugar! I refuse to take the fall for this!"

Cassius squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then forced them open.

"Alright, Julie, I-I believe you. It's not your fault this time." He said, his voice remarkably calm, considering he was battling the urge to chase a sugared rodent across the camp. "That little thief got us good."

He paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, though a wry smile tugged at his lips as he muttered under his breath.

"But I'm starting to think you've got some kind of bad luck curse, though."

Clearing his throat, he then raised his voice, the encouraging tone now a monumental effort.

"But we're not done yet. Last step, add the salt. It's simple. One teaspoon."

He crouched down, carefully picking up the packet of salt and a spoon, handing them to Julie with deliberate, exaggerated care, his eyes locked on hers.

"Here, I'm giving it to you. Just add one teaspoon to the machine. I'll watch to make sure it goes okay."

Julie's face flushed, her voice sharp with offense as she took the salt and spoon, her posture stiffening.

"Cassius, it's just a teaspoon of salt! I don't need you hovering over me like I'm gonna blow up the camp!" She snapped, clutching the spoon. "I can handle something this simple!" Her eyes flicked to the machine, her confidence wavering as she caught his deadpan stare.

"Oh, really?" Cassius raised an eyebrow, his voice dry, laced with a very thin thread of patience. "Because pouring milk and cream was supposed to be simple, too, and somehow we've got a graveyard of ingredients at your feet."

He said, gesturing at the broken bottles and spilled cream.

"You sure I shouldn't be watching?...You want me to just let you go wild and hope for the best?"

His eyes glinted with a desperate challenge, his curiosity now a grim determination and Julie's face reddened, her voice faltering as she looked away, her shoulders slumping with reluctant admission.

"Okay, fine, you've got a point." She mumbled, her tone grudging as she gripped the spoon tighter. "But I'm doing this right. Just watch."

Under his watchful, almost fear-filled gaze, she carefully dug the spoon into the salt packet, her movements excruciatingly slow and careful as she measured out a single teaspoon.

Her brow furrowed with concentration, hands steady as she leaned over the ice cream machine, gently tipping the salt inside and the moment it landed, her face lit up, her voice bursting with a triumphant shout as she turned to Cassius.

"There! I did it! See? I didn't mess it up!"

Her eyes sparkled, her grin wide as if she'd just conquered a great beast, while Cassius's lips twitched.

He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting back the urge to point out the monumental unimportance of adding one teaspoon of salt successfully. His amusement was a tiny, flickering candle in the gale of his recent frustrations, but her innocent, victorious expression...it was truly something.

"Good job, Julie, good job." He said, his voice warm despite everything. "I'm proud of you."

His words were gentle, his smile genuine, though he knew it was hardly praise, worthy. Still, the way her face glowed with joy, her posture practically radiating confidence, made it impossible to scold her. He just let her have this tiny win.

Julie's eyes softened, warmth spreading across her face, her pride swelling at the praise.

"Thank you, Cassius." She said, her tone soft as she looked down at the machine. "I...I mean, it's just salt, but...nobody's ever said they're proud of me for cooking before. It feels kind of nice."

Her fingers fidgeted with the spoon, her sudden confidence urging her to try again. She then opened her mouth, her voice eager as she started to speak.

"Hey, maybe I can also help with—"

But before she could continue, Aisha cut her off, darting forward with a panicked shout, her voice sharp as she grabbed Julie's arm, her expression a mix of sheer alarm and utter exasperation.

"Stop! Stop! Let's stop right there!" She exclaimed, her hands tugging Julie upright. "I know exactly what you're about to say, Captain, and no way! You've done enough, more than enough for one day!"

She practically dragged Julie toward the nearby tents, her grip firm as she glanced back at Cassius, her eyes pleading.

"And Cassius, please, let her stop while she's ahead! I'm begging you, save the ice cream before she turns it into poison!" Her voice was desperate, a plea from the depths of her dessert-loving soul as she pulled Julie away.

Julie stumbled, her voice hesitant as she tried to resist, her eyes flicking back to the machine.

"Wait, Aisha, maybe I can help out more! I'm getting better, I swear!" She protested, her tone pleading as she tugged against Aisha's grip. "I didn't mess up the salt! I can do this!"

Aisha didn't relent, her voice firm as she kept pulling, her expression unwavering.

"Nope, nope, you're done, Captain." She said, her tone decisive as she glanced back at Cassius with a hopeful, desperate look. "Cassius, you take it from here. Please, for the love of our stomachs, finish the ice cream. I'm trusting you to save this meal!"

Her eyes sparkled with desperation as she dragged Julie into the tent, while Cassius stood there for a moment, staring at the battlefield of broken bottles and spilled cream, the faint glow of the pasta sauce flickering in the firelight.

A soft laugh escaped him, half-amused, half-weary.

How could someone like her, a captain with power, prestige, and the respect of an entire legion, be so disastrously clumsy at something as simple as cooking?

Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath. "She's like a walking kitchen disaster..."

Yet even as he thought it, he couldn't deny the spark he'd seen in her eyes.

The way she'd hovered so close, drawn to every little movement, her curiosity practically spilling over, it wasn't just idle interest.

She really wanted to cook, even if her hands betrayed her every step of the way.

As he returned to stirring the sauce, his lips curled into a faint smile. "What a strange woman." He murmured. "Powerful enough to command an army...yet completely hopeless with a bottle of milk."