She always felt guilty for being useless, for being a bother to take care of. So, whenever she felt well enough, she'd push herself into getting up and pretending to be a normal wife.
That afternoon, she'd talked the servants into letting her cook dinner. Her husband would be returning from his latest mission that evening, and she wanted to offer him a pleasant surprise by making what she'd heard was his favourite food - mapo tofu.
By the time he arrived, however, she had collapsed and had been carried back to her bed. He picked up the plate of food that she'd cooked and stared into its garish blend of colours, wondering why she would do such a thing.
He brought it to his room and ate it by her bedside, listening to her apologies with an inscrutable expression.
"I'm sorry I can't do more for you, Kirei."
"No, what you do is enough."
"Well? Do you like it?"
"...It is quite good."
In truth, the dish was very mediocre. However, he was certain of the affection she had poured into it - and thus, he could call it "good" in perfect honesty.
