How do you like your Roast?

Nero tiredly stepped into his home, his day had consisted of organizing a new routine for the guards, hiring new guards, being pestered by a few locals to take Iola’s stew and finally taking an important note about the pests invading the farmers fields (Though really there wasn’t much he could do for them).

Quickly, Nero untied his hair and he slipped off his boots, getting into some comfy slippers, next he would remove his gloves and jacket, leaving him in his shirt and trousers. He stood by the bottom of the stairs, clearing his throat.

“My dear Iola,” Nero cooed.

“Welcome home darling!”

Nero always called out to Iola when he returned and she would always respond back, it was comforting for the both of them and ensured that they were both safe.

Usually Iola would be upstairs in the library sitting by the window, her face in books, however it seemed like her voice came from the kitchen. Nero swallowed for a moment, knowing exactly what this meant. Wasn’t it his turn to cook? Could he convince her… Or was it too late?

“I’m in the kitchen, I’m trying a new recipe!”

New? That only seemed to make Nero much more nervous, how long could he keep this up. It pained him everytime he had to lie to his wife… But she just looked so happy, so proud. But how could she not see the dubious, green, smelling stew before her??

The guards would make fun of him for putting up with it for so long while some told him to be honest and just suck it up. He contemplated this, of course. In the end, he really didn’t want to hurt Iola’s feelings. He’d just suck it up and deal with the severe stomach pains for days.

“Oh that’s okay doll, I ate a big dinner before I got home, no need to save any for me” He sighs. Another lie.

“Nonsense, at least try a little bit? For me…” Iola called out and he could hear her footsteps approaching. Nero sighed, knowing his fate and met her in the hallway.

“Just a little… Why don’t you leave the cooking to me for now? You already work so hard” Iola insisted, her teal bangs bouncing as she nodded towards Nero. She cradled his face with her palms and smiled up at him. “Please?”

“Haha!! NO! I mean, I love cooking! It’s fine! Really!”

That came out a little too quickly, earning a look from Iola. Don’t make her suspicious.

Nero cleared his throat and continued on.

“Come on then, show me what you’ve been doing in there” He nods to the doorway and both of them make their way into the kitchen.

–

The smell was rather interesting, a mixture of onions, beef,  and… pond water? He took a look in the pot which Iola proudly stood by, she handed him a spoon rather quickly and awaited his judgment. He felt his nose hairs completely singe off. Red flags already, nice.

It was a thick liquid, brown in color with bubbles of oil rising to the top. The smell was much stronger now and rather interesting to say the least, Nero was pretty sure he’d lost his sense of smell from it.

Now the taste test. He swallowed once more before taking a spoon and stirring the liquid, readying himself for the worst. Would this finally release him from this world?

Nero takes a deep breath and puts the spoon to his lips, he closes his eyes and takes it like a champ. He murmured something before he swallowed, perhaps a prayer? Only he would know.

“It’s my version of a Roast!” Iola giggled.

Nero just about choked on the spoon, his eyes watering as he swallowed the… Roast?

What kind of Roast dinner was liquid? There was nothing Roast about this. Where was the meat.. The potatoes… Was this a joke, some game she was playing? Nero wanted to cry and so…

He did.

Iola stepped back with a gasp, her face showing concern for Nero now. “What’s wrong…?” She whispered.

“I… I can’t eat this” Nero shook his head, he was finally at his breaking point. “It’s-”

“Oh!! I’m sorry! Don’t worry, I have some of my famous stew you could have instead, that’ll get rid of the taste in no time!!” Iola quickly grabbed a tupperware dish from the fridge and began heating it up.

Iola didn’t even let Nero finish, she was gone in a flash leaving Nero to himself.

Nero felt like he’d been teleported to another dimension, like his soul had left his body for good. He heard voices, whispers, echoes from the past, future, present, had he finally died? Did his wife's cooking finally take him out?

His eyes were spinning and his head felt like it just about might explode any second now, though he could hear something calling faintly, and eventually getting much closer to him.

“Nero? Neroooo?”

“Huh?” Nero blinked himself awake, quickly looking around he realized he was still at the kitchen table and not actually dead.

The dubious stew sat before him. Taunting him. Its smell creeping up his nostrils and reminding him of the pain to come.

“I think you’re sick… H-have some stew and I can get the maids to make the bed-”

Nero’s hand gripped Iola’s wrist tightly. “No”

Iola looked back to her husband, his head hanging low and his face dark, scrunched up, it looked like he was sweating too? Oh Deja he was actually sick!

“I can no longer eat this… your cooking.” His voice was hoarse, deeper than normal. Almost like something had possessed poor Nero.

“Nero honey… Let’s just get you to bed, okay” Was all Iola could say, tears filling her eyes now. Everybody loved  her cooking, he was lying!

“I need to be honest. You… You Need to take a cooking class”

Nero's face planted the table.

Everything went black.