I need to act decently in broad daylight. Calum watched Emma step back half a pace, and a small wave of disappointment hit him. She hasn't taken the chance to kiss me. I must not be tempting enough. "Didn't you say you'd teach me to barbecue? I changed. You can teach me now." Barbecue is one thing, but why is he standing this close and dressed so provocatively? Does he think I can resist? Emma handed him a pair of skewering gloves. "Put these on. I'll show you how to skewer and grill." "Okay." Calum slipped on the gloves and mimicked her motions, focusing intently. Simple movements somehow became difficult in his hands. The same hands that piloted starships with precision and tore through Chitinid shell now fumbled clumsily.Bamboo skewers went crooked or pierced meat sideways. When he finally aligned one, he mashed the meat into pulp. Minced bits scattered everywhere. Emma watched a perfect slab of marbled beast meat descend into chaos. Even the pieces he managed to skewer looked like they'd survived a war—crooked, uneven, lacking beauty. Calum's brows furrowed, his expression serious as if commanding a battlefield. Sweat gleamed at his temple. Solo, he had once ripped apart three Rank 11 Chitinid elites with his bare hands, yet he had never felt this helpless. No matter how tough a Chitinid's shell or how tricky its skeleton, he can always find the perfect angle to strike a lethal blow.Soft, squishy meat now felt like the toughest opponent of his life. Every skill he possessed seemed useless, and frustration hit him like a gut punch. "Ms. Tibarn, I..." "It's fine." Emma took the pitiful skewer from his hand and handed him one she'd prepared. "Calum, you do the grilling." She didn't criticize. She simply demonstrated, patiently."Brush a thin coat of oil so the meat won't stick. Keep the heat moderate and flip often. When the edges curl and the color turns golden, sprinkle the seasoning." Calum's deep eyes followed her every movement, absorbing the details as if memorizing a battle plan. She handed him a finished skewer. "Got it?" she asked. He nodded. "It doesn't look hard. I think I've got it." Isn't it just flipping them over and sprinkling the seasoning? I can handle it. Following her instructions, he placed the skewer on the grate. He focused completely on the grill, afraid to miss a single detail. Flames seemed to conspire against him. He flipped one side, and the other smoked black. A burnt smell hit him. Panic surged as he reached for the scorched skewer.The oil brush slipped from his hand into the coals. A flare erupted, flames licking up over the grill. "Careful!" Emma grabbed his wrist, pulling him back. "Your hand okay?" She examined it carefully. "Good. No burn." Calum's gaze dropped to her lashes. The warmth of her touch made him press his lips together in guilt. His gaze fell on the messy grill, his voice full of frustration and guilt."I'm sorry, Ms. Tibarn. I'm too clumsy. I can't even do something this simple right. I've burnt all the meat." He felt utterly hopeless. He had blown up the kitchen while cooking, nearly set the barbecue on fire, and now Emma had to worry about him. Emma's voice remained calm. "Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. Not being good at cooking isn't a big deal." Her eyes caught the scorched hem of his black shirt. A hole had burned through, revealing a strip of hard, toned waist. A faint red mark from the heat marred his skin. She looked up at Calum with seriousness. Her clear eyes carried no hint of reproach, only sincere care. "Don't beat yourself up," she said softly, letting go of his hand. "You're the Empire's Marshal, a legendary warrior who can tear Chitinids apart."