Beautiful work,I think, then immediately regret the thought's direction.
This is weakness,the voice of orc tradition whispers in my mind.Concern for one human female over strategic advantage. Sentiment that compromises judgment.
The voice sounds remarkably like my father's.
She fights well,I argue back.Skill deserves respect regardless of species.
Skill, yes. But this is not mere respect for competence. This is something else.
I don't want to name what that something else might be.
Five minutes left. Other contestants are beginning to show strain, sloppy plating, burnt garnishes, the vampire actually hissing at his tart for failing to set properly. But Trinity remains centered, focused, adding final touches to her creation with steady hands.
She's going to succeed. Not just survive the challenge, but genuinely excel at it. The knowledge fills me with something suspiciously resembling pride.
"Time!"
Hands up, step back, let the judges begin their circuit of tasting and evaluation. Trinity surveys her finished dish withthe same critical eye she'd applied to the workspace initially. Whatever she sees must satisfy her, because her shoulders relax fractionally.
The judges work their way through the stations with practiced efficiency. Praise here, constructive criticism there, the occasional dramatic pronouncement for camera benefit. When they reach Trinity's station, I find myself holding my breath.
The head judge lifts one of her pastry cups, examines the presentation, takes a careful bite. His expression shifts from polite interest to genuine surprise.
"This is exceptional work," he tells her, and I hear real appreciation in his voice, not just performance for the cameras. "The flavor balance is sophisticated, the technique is flawless, and the presentation elevates what could have been a simple dessert into something truly special."
Trinity's smile could power the entire production facility.
That expression,I think.When she's proud of her work. When she knows she's succeeded through skill and effort.
It's affecting. More affecting than it should be.
The judging concludes. Trinity wins, naturally, her combination of technical execution and creative vision outclassed everything else in the room. The immunity award and magazine feature are hers, along with the kind of positive attention that should advance whatever publicity goals brought her to this ridiculous show.
She deserves the victory. Earned it through talent and determination and the kind of grace under pressure that would serve well in any arena, culinary or otherwise.
As contestants file out for individual interviews, Trinity catches my eye. There's a question in her expression, acknowledgment of the small assists, maybe confusion about my motivations.
I should maintain distance. Professional observance. Strategic thinking that keeps personal complications from interfering with larger objectives.
Instead, I find myself approaching her station.
"Well fought," I tell her, falling back on familiar military terminology.
She laughs, the sound bright and genuine. "Well fought? It was baking, not combat."
"Good strategy, skillful execution, victory achieved through preparation and adaptability," I list. "Combat and cooking may not be as different as you think."
"Hmm." She's studying my face with that same focused attention she'd applied to her dessert composition. "And here I thought you were just being nice."
Nice.The word sits strangely. Orcs aren't typically described as nice. Honorable, perhaps. Fierce, certainly. Effective when the situation demands it. But nice suggests a gentleness that doesn't align with how I understand myself.
"I was being accurate," I correct. "Your performance was impressive by any standard."
"Thank you." She hesitates, then adds, "And thank you for the ladder thing. And the sugar advice. You didn't have to help."
The gratitude makes me uncomfortable. Helping her had felt automatic. Instinctive. Not a choice requiring thanks, but a necessary action when I saw potential harm.
This is how protective instincts begin,the warning voice in my head observes.Small interventions that become larger investments that become...
