What is this...? Dosa.

(Yuuta's POV)

Lately, mornings had felt... strange.

Not in a bad way—just off, like waking up after a dream you can't remember, but the feeling of it lingers in your chest. There was something missing. Something just out of reach, like a name you almost recall but can't quite catch.

I stood there, staring at the ceiling like it owed me answers.

Before my brain could wander too far into the abyss of weird emotions—

Thump.

Something small and squishy wrapped around my leg like a fuzzy vine.

"Papa!" a tiny voice chirped.

I looked down and saw Elena, still in her pajamas, clinging to my leg like a sleepy koala on caffeine. Her hair stuck out in odd directions, one sock half-off, eyes sparkling with unfiltered mischief.

"What are you making today for breakfast?"

I crouched down and smiled.

"Hmm… What does Princess Elena desire this fine morning?"

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she launched a surprise sprint toward the bedroom. I blinked.

"Uh… okay?"

Ten seconds later, she returned—dragging the World Cuisine Rating Book, which was about the size of her torso and twice as dramatic. She plopped it open on the table, flipping through pages like she was defusing a bomb.

"This one!" she pointed proudly. "I want to eat… um… Do…Dos…Dossaaa…"

I squinted at the page.

"You mean Dosa?"

She grinned.

"Yes! Dosa! I want the napkin one!"

I laughed.

"Technically accurate. But trust me—Dosa is like a warm, crispy breakfast hug from the universe. You have good taste, Your Majesty."

Behind me, a voice piped up, dry as ever.

"Is it that weird food again?"

I turned. There was Erza, lounging on the couch like a battle-worn queen taking her yearly vacation. One leg draped over the armrest, a thick fantasy novel in hand, her expression one part annoyed and three parts sleepy.

"It's not weird," I said, flipping on the stove. "It's a culinary masterpiece. You'll love it—crispy, golden, divine."

From the living room floor came a groggy grunt.

"Don't leave me out, boy…"

Grandpa peeked over the sofa cushion, remote still balanced on his stomach like it had fused there overnight.

"I want some of that breakfast napkin, too."

"Then prepare yourselves," I said, grabbing the pan like a weapon of war. "Today's mission is... Operation: Dosa Domination."

I held the spatula aloft like it was Excalibur.

"I am gonna be the King of Dosa!"

A beat of silence. Okay I guess I shouldn't used Anime Dailogue, I am regret now.

Then—

Grandpa peeked up, genuinely concerned. "Erza," he said slowly, "Are we… sure he's alright?"

Erza didn't even look up. "Ignore him. He says stuff like that every day. You get used to it."

Just when I thought I'd claimed the throne uncontested, a small fist punched the air beside me.

"No! I'm gonna be the Dosa King!"

I looked down. Elena stood proudly beside me, hands on hips, eyes full of challenge.

"You dare challenge me, tiny monarch?" I gasped.

"Yes! I'm stronger than you papa! I can eat two Dosas!"

I leaned in dramatically.

"We shall see, pretender."

"Ugh. "Both of you," Erza snapped, finally looking up from her book. "Stop it. I can't even focus on my novel. One more shout about 'Dosa Kings' and I'm setting the pan on ice."

We both froze.

I glanced at Elena. She glanced back.

We nodded slowly.

Then we very quietly started prepping the batter. Glad I already prepared it and put in fridge.

Erza sighed, turning a page in her novel with

the elegance of a queen tired of her fools.

"Good thing I'm around," she muttered. "Otherwise, you two would probably make trouble again.

Elena whispered, "Papa… Mama is scary when she talks like that."

"I know, kid," I whispered back. "I know."

And so, Operation Dosa continued in respectful silence—under the watchful eye of our terrifying guardian dragon.

"Let's make the crispiest Dosa in all the worlds!"

And just like that, the kitchen battle commenced.

Two self-proclaimed monarchs flipping batter like pros.

I took a deep breath and gave the dosa batter one last gentle stir, making sure it was smooth and just the right consistency—not too thick, not too runny. This part was important; good batter was the foundation of a perfect dosa.

The pan was already hot, and I checked it by flicking a tiny drop of water onto the surface. It danced and sizzled instantly. Perfect heat.

I turned the flame down to medium, then carefully poured a ladleful of batter onto the center of the pan. Holding the ladle steady, I started to spread the batter in slow, deliberate circles, watching it grow thinner and thinner until it looked almost translucent.

Wom… wom… wom… The dosa spread evenly, a smooth golden pancake slowly cooking.

Next, I grabbed a small spoon of oil and gently drizzled it around the edges of the dosa. That was the secret to getting that satisfying crispy edge.

I kept my eyes on it, waiting for the moment when the bottom would turn golden brown. When I saw the edges curl up just right and the surface dry enough, I slid my spatula underneath and flipped it with a quiet swoosh.

Placing the crispy dosa onto the plate, I smiled. "One down."

I repeated the process carefully—making sure each dosa was just as good as the last. One, two, three perfectly golden dosas sat stacked neatly on the plate. Not bad at all. Definitely chef-level.

I was already imagining Erza's reaction when she smelled the dosa wafting through the house. She'd probably pretend to be unimpressed but secretly inhale half the batch.

Then I heard it.

"Papa!" Elena's voice came from behind me, sharp and a little breathless.

I turned to see her standing with her hands on her hips, lips pouting like I'd just refused to share my favorite candy.

"Elena wants to help too!" she said, clearly not in the mood for discussion.

I raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Alright, little princess. How about this—you're in charge of the blender. Deal?"

Her face immediately brightened. She threw her hands in the air like she'd just won a trophy. "Yes! I am Blender King!"

She marched over to the counter with all the confidence in the world, like she was about to operate some huge, dangerous machine.

I exhaled quietly, feeling relieved. If I let her help with the blender instead of the dosas, maybe we'd both survive breakfast without disaster.

Phew!!, For now, I was safe.

(Erza's POV)

"Uff… this mortal has no sense of seriousness," I muttered under my breath, watching Yuuta from the corner of my eye as he dramatically waved a spatula like it was some legendary sword.

Just then, my grandfather, lying flat on the couch like it was a royal bed, turned his head lazily and asked,

"So… about those three wishes you said you'd fulfill before leaving—what are they exactly?"

I blinked.

My heart dropped.

I had completely forgotten about wishes.

A sigh escaped me, quiet and heavy.

"They're nothing big… just things to make Yuuta's life easier. Peaceful."

I glanced away. My voice softened against my will.

My voice dropped. "After that, I'll leave."

Grandpa sat up a little. "You know," he said gently, "you don't have to carry everything alone. If you pass the throne to one of your siblings, they'd rule, and you'd finally be free."

For a second, I allowed myself to imagine it—freedom. No royal duty. No looming threats. No more pretending to be invincible.

But the warmth in that fantasy turned cold fast.

"No," I said flatly.

I cut him off, my tone cold, sharp. "They aren't like me."

I looked down at my hands. The fingers that had once carried swords and burned cities.

"They'd destroy me the second they took the throne. I wasn't a kind sister for them. I made them suffer. If they ever gained power, they'd rewrite history, spread lies. Say I was possessed by a human—Yuuta—and use that as an excuse to hunt us both down."

A long silence settled between us.

Grandpa finally asked, "So… you've decided to leave him?"

I tried to keep my face cold. Expressionless.

"Once I fulfill the three wishes… yes."

1. Safety.

2. Financial freedom.

3. Bound.

"After that," I whispered, "I'll go. At least I'll know he's safe."

A long breath escaped me.

"It's the only way I can protect him."

Grandpa looked at me with tired, knowing eyes.

"What a love story… The first person you ever fall for is cursed. Tied to a short life. Tied to a world he can't even enter."

He sighed.

"And you—immortal, powerful, feared by nations—and yet completely helpless."

I didn't respond.

Didn't have to.

The silence said enough.

But before the weight of that truth could settle—

BZZZZZ!

CLANK!

SPLAAAAT!!

Something wet and spicy slapped across my cheek.

I blinked. Slowly turned my head.

There, in the middle of the kitchen, stood Yuuta… holding a blender lid in one hand. Elena, standing proudly on a chair, had just pressed something she probably shouldn't have.

Green chutney dripped from the ceiling.

Walls.

Curtains.

My face.

"…You," I said coldly, wiping a chunk of coriander paste from my cheek. "Absolute. Idiots."

Yuuta laughed nervously. "Erza, listen, it's not what it looks like—"

I punched him. Hard. In the side.

"OW! You really hit me!"

Then a light bop to Elena's forehead. "And you. Sit down before you blend your fingers next."

Elena squeaked and dove onto the couch, giggling.

Yuuta groaned, rubbing his ribs. "This lizard queen only knows how to solve things with violence…"

I froze.

My eye twitched.

"…What did you just call me?"

He paled. "Nothing! I said—dinner queen! As in, you love food!"

"Hmm." I stepped forward, cracking my knuckles.

"W-Wait! Who's gonna finish breakfast if you break my arms?! Think of the dosa!"

"You should have thought of that before calling me a reptile, you absolute embarrassment of a mortal."

I lunged. He yelped. Somewhere behind us, Grandpa was howling with laughter.

"This is better than Ruiling," he chuckled.

From under a sofa pillow, Elena peeked out and whispered, "Papa… Mama's scary again…"

Yuuta, pinned beneath my boot, wheezed, "Tell me something I don't know."

I gave him one final glare, then turned away, brushing chutney off my clothes with as much grace as I could manage.

"Honestly… Good thing I'm around," I muttered, heading toward the bathroom.

"Otherwise, the two of you would've turned the neighbors into enemies by now."

"I laughed a little—both of them were such lovable idiots… but honestly, I wouldn't trade them for the world."

To be continued...