Crown On My Head

chapter 24

Port of Souls                          Lacey

The door creaked open once more, and Krin burst in, carrying a package that filled the room with a distinct salty and fishy aroma. With a flourish, he declared, "Dinner is served, my friends!" as he made his way into the kitchen.

With newfound confidence from successfully baking the cake, I opened the oven with pride. The cake, adorned with red frosting and strawberries aligned on the rim, emitted a sweet and tempting aroma that enveloped the room. I look at my creation, the colours and scents creating a moment of selfishness.

Krin yells at me to leave the cake and come taste his culinary creation. The others eagerly gathered around, their reactions to Krin's dish varied, but the banter continued from where it left off, with the ongoing debate between Doorlan and Krin.

In the midst of their humorous exchange, Bomb suggested, "Lacey, bring your cake in. I want to see what masterpiece you've made."

With the grace befitting a princess, I elegantly carried my cake into the room. Simon and Bomb marvelled at the beautifully designed cake, and Doorlan offered a heartfelt remark about its artistry.

"Look at this masterpiece! It's almost too beautiful to eat," Bomb remarked, a twinkle in her eye.

"It's like a work of art. Your mother would be proud," added Bomb, her eyes gleaming.

Doorlan chimed in, "Birdy, you've truly outdone yourself. This is magnificent."

However Krin, perhaps not realising the emotional weight, playfully hit the cake out of my hand as a joke. My expression transformed from joy to instant anger. A boiling heat bubbles up in me like a volcano.

"You're a cruel man, Krin," I yell, my voice sharp with hurt.

A heated argument replaced the room. The wall vibrated with anger. Doorlan exploded with accusations, and Bomb quickly ushered me away to my room for some time to calm down. It was a small action. It was just a joke. But he knew what this meant to me. But it hurt more knowing that he thought it was a harmless joke.

Betrayal, hurt, and frustration clashed within me like a tempest, and the room seemed to spin with the echoes of our argument. Feeling all my accomplishments and bridges I built with him burn. Burn like the fire in my blood.

The others joined in the chorus of admonishment, their voices blending into a mess of disapproval. I couldn't shake the bitterness that lingered in the air. So thick if you cut It it would still hang. Like a rope tightly wrapped like a noose.

The atmosphere crackled as Doorlan exploded in anger. "Krin, do you have any sense at all?"

Krin, seems to finally catch my shining face through the candle light flickering, as a tram goes overhead. My bitter tears looked as if it burnt him alive.

"Come on, Doorlan, it was just a joke. Lighten up!"

But Doorlan wasn't having it. Calm and collected left as the chander light goes completely off. Like shadows crawl out of his skin. The candle light becomes a heavy orange. "A joke? This is beyond a joke, Krin. You need to understand the consequences of your actions. This isn't just about the cake; it's about respect." His jaw tightened, and his shoulders tensed, like a storm brewing on the horizon. His words cut through the air, each one a lightning strike of frustration.

Bomb, spoke harshly. "Krin, you really crossed a line. Lacey put effort into that cake, and you just trashed it like it meant nothing." Her eyes, missing the mischief spark, now reflected a depth of disappointment. It was as if the light within her had dimmed, like a candle flickering in the face of a gusty wind.

I look around the room, the chairs pushed back, marking the floor with scars of the argument. The fallen cake, now left array on the floor. The flames seemed to flicher.

Krin,defensively responses, "Okay, okay, I get it. I messed up. I didn't think it would be such a big deal."

But Doorlan, frustrated and unrelenting, retorted, "That's the problem, Krin. You never think. Your carelessness has consequences, and it's time you realised that."

The room echoed with tension as the argument continued. Each word added to the weight of the situation.

I, caught in the crossfire, felt a storm raging within. My shoulders slumped, burdened by as it was my cake that had caused such a rift to tear them apart, and my eyes burnt.