True to his word, ever since that sunny afternoon under his father's grave, Anthony had remained present in Keiko's life. Helpful. Downright amicable, even, the majority of the time. It's all a bizarre adjustment for Keiko, to say the least; less so for his new demeanor in itself, and more for how completely it shifted everything she'd once thought she understood about the Bridgerton household's head nearly overnight.
Today, however, is the first day that shift is truly put to the test. It's already been a long day of poring over matters of the Miura estate together - matters that she did have to remind Anthony more than once to show her, not settle for her - but, to his credit, he did concede to her every time. Still, long enough has been spent sifting through the affairs Kentaro had left behind that, for the first time since this new arrangement began, Anthony would be staying for a meal through it.
All but Keiko's most trusted staff had already been given the day off beforehand, if only to give them both some actual semblance of privacy. Therefore, the decision to eat downstairs today had been made more out of convenience than anything else - but Keiko would be lying if she said she isn't looking forward to seeing the look on Anthony's face all the same. How likely is it, after all, that the man who grew up Bridgerton heir had ever cooked for himself, never mind eaten where his servants did before?
It doesn't take long to make their way downstairs. It's quiet here today in a way that reminds her of years long past, another life left behind halfway across the world. The sight of her mother alone in the kitchen, save for one maid, nearly makes Keiko feel like a little girl again; it would have succeeded in it, in fact, if not for the sight of her own little boy, parked in a high chair by the servants' table as her mother sets two places on it.
Before Keiko can say a word to any of them, Hiroshi reaches out for her with chubby hands, a babbled stream of Mamamamama greeting her first. She doesn't think he truly understands what he's saying, not yet, but the sound still settles warmly in her chest all the same. Warm enough that it's with an uncharacteristically easy grin and a murmured greeting, low enough for only her son to hear, that Keiko pulls him out of the high chair and into her arms.
Only once she's certain that Hiroshi is secure in her hold, and the rest of their company has been greeted as well, does Keiko turn her attention back to their guest. And, ah - there it is. She can't hold back a chuckle at the look on Anthony's face; never before has she seen the Viscount rendered so dumfounded by a matter so simple. "What? Don't tell me you've never set foot in a kitchen before." // @livedtough + plotted starter!
