Magic in the name ... Isis

Chapter 8-Isis POV

I followed Osiris as he headed for the winding staircase. It was so beautiful, the walls a soothing cream and the large windows allowing the light to stream through. I tasted the sweet tang of magic on my tongue, the place was buzzing with it.

Distracted in my scrutinizing of the place, I was surprise to realise how fast we'd gotten to the kitchen. It was just as modern,elegant and spacious as the rest of the house i'd seen. Smooth marble surfaces and shining metal taps, and cupboard handles, giving the impression it was either new or obsessively cleaned.

"What do you want to eat? Cereal? Pepperoni Pizza? Pancakes? Roast Potatoes? Pasta?" He inquired, reaching into the cupboard above his head,maneuvering out two sparkling white plates. I stared for a minute. Everything was so featureless and formal; useful but impersonal as if careful to not reveal anything about the owner. Interesting i thought, feeling my eyes narrowed. 

"Well what time is it?"I inquired, with a polite tone. Avoiding his question with one of my own. Come to think of it, i hadn't seen any clocks about.

"I don't know. However, i recommend the Pizza. My cooking is probably below standards your used to." He murmured,pointedly avoiding my gaze as he searched the kitchen. Now i felt my eyes narrowing for a different reason, glaring holes into his back. I stomped further into the room,to the impressive looking table.

 "I don't know what glamorous life you think i've been living but I'm sick of crappy fast food. So hand me a pan and put the kettle on."  I demanded glaring into his shocked eyes. He slowly strode though the kitchen,clicking the kettle on and rustling around the cupboards before handing me a pan and dropping onto a white leather bar stool. His face unreadable. Wow, who knew the guy was so sensitive. I wasn't going to apologize. Rule number 4, show no signs of weakness and like most of the other rules i'd already broken it in the last 48 hours. Well, I mentally decided that isn't happening again. Straighting my posture, I commenced operation pasta explosion or for short P.E. 

 "Why are you staring at me? Is it cause your bored? If so can you get me the pasta sauce, please."  I announced abruptly, breaking the awkward silence to my relief. I attempted to ignore it but it felt like my skull was being loudly drilling into.

 "No, I'm not bored. Just enjoying the show. It's not everyday you see a princess cooking for herself." He chuckled. I blinked. Frowning at the logic, I suppose he's right. Maybe I was more abnormal then I thought.

"Well, this isn't everyday and don't call me princess. You know that isn't what I am" I grumbled starting to feel uncomfortable again. Concentrating more intensely on my pasta to hide it.

"Well, technically your the Queen." he wisely informed, with a hint of teasing and admiration in his eyes. I felt a weird aching twinge in my heart at the word Queen. Reminding me of my mother. I'd never see her beautiful smile again. 

"Erm, Isis...We don't have any pasta sauce." he admitted sheepishly, running a hand through his dark hair.  Counting to 10, to extinguish my sudden panic. I replied as cheerful as I could. Feeling like he was analyzing my reactions again. "Time to get creative then!"

After raiding the mostly empty fridge, I liberated the tomato ketchup.  I'll admit it,I had a secret love for tomato ketchup pasta, actually I had a secret love for most things with ketchup.  

After evenly pouring the spongy curls of pasta on to the expensive looking plates, I dramatically drizzled a large amount of ketchup all over. The blood-red ketchup a stark contrast to the white porcelain of the plate. My stomach growled.

"Do you want a hand with that?" Osiris asked hungrily eyeing the pasta. I laughed, putting a plate down gently in front of him,along with mine as i took my own seat, being careful not to slide off. I watched as he thoughtful chewed on his first forkful. "Not to bad for royalty." He half complimented.