"It's weird how homely this place has gotten." Zen answered just as easily as he washed the potatoes for dinner, and Mitsuhide almost questioned him on that or pointed out that homely is not normally the adjective for an abandoned house when you're used to a palace.
"It kind of has." Mitsuhide wasn't sure just how many months ago, that Zen began to frequent this spot as a getaway from the difficulty of being a prince, but somehow out here in the woods away from everyone else, Zen seemed to breathe easier and relax too. And for a moment, instead of a prince and a knight, they were the best of friends. And yet, it's not like they aren't always fluctuating between friendship and responsibility. They have been for a while now.
After Atri, Mitsuhide's job as Zen's protector became a bit more personal, and somewhere along the way, they became true friends.
"Yeah, I hope that we can keep coming here for a while." Zen brought the potatoes over with a kind of ease that Mitsuhide can respect. It took a while for him to get comfortable in a kitchen, though he's nowhere near a prolific chef. But if they are going to spend a day away from the castle, they need to eat sometime and somehow, and do so in a way that preferably doesn't put the prince in any danger or alert people to a visiting prince.
"As long as we're careful. We probably can." Mitsuhide shrugged and began chopping the potatoes as Zen went about washing other vegetables.
"That's good. It's nice to not have to be a prince all the time." Zen sighed, and Mitsuhide thought back to Zen's first major introduction to non-royal life and how miserably that went.
"You're a good person." Mitsuhide settled on; he wasn't going to argue that Zen was a prince whether he was working or not. That was not the topic Mitsuhide was going to debate, at least let Zen know he's safe here, with his walls down, and that his vulnerability isn't a curse.
"And you're a good knight." And when Zen comes over with the last of the vegetables, Mitsuhide gives him a look, like you don't know me by this point, yet?
But he's quiet as he throws the vegetables in with the warm broth and the meat, and Zen stands by his side, equally quiet, but probably hungry too.
"Thank you." It's moments like these that Zen really looks his age or perhaps younger, vulnerable and scared about it, but yet somehow trusting too. One day, Mitsuhide hopes that Zen's vulnerability won't scare him so much, and that stirring a pot together isn't the most warm moment in Zen's day or life.
Hopefully, he'll meet others too, that he can trust, and realize Mitsuhide's loyalty is more than just a job description, has been for a while.