1163. Jury, the Gift That Keeps On Giving

Joy held out a spoon.

Frost gently sighed, took the spoon, and took a careful spoonful. She had to use her palette to scoop the contents off the spoon. Using her teeth would only scrape metal shavings off the spoon.

She chewed and swallowed without ever experiencing the rubbery texture of the raisins, the fluffiness of the rice, the smoothness of the potatoes…

“It’s good~” Frost smiled.

It was genuine, of course. But those who knew Frost could tell that there was a shade of sadness in her eyes.

After all, who wouldn’t be sad if they could not properly enjoy their wife’s cooking?

She took a few more mouthfuls before feeding Joy with her free hand. Jury watched Frost with solemn eyes before suddenly pushing a wooden box onto the table.

“Frost. It’s not much, and I’m frankly a bit ashamed it took so long to get it right.” Jury started sheepishly before her composure returned. “I thought about you when I made this. When you told me that you can’t experience food the same way as you could in that tavern, I promised myself to figure out a solution.”

Frost gently took the box and placed it in front of her. Jury spoke again as Frost slowly unlocked the box.

“You’re always thinking about everyone. Sometimes I wonder if you ever stop to think about yourself. You’ve been doing it lately. You come to talk, and we have our heart to hearts… But most of the time you’re the one taking the initiative. When was the last time someone gave you a gift?”

“Being with everyone is a gift in of itself. The fact that none of us died during the War in Grandis is already…”

Frost her train of thought when she opened the box. Her lips moved, but only a faint, sweet sound came out. At first it sounded like a gasp, then it turned into a disbelieving chuckle.

“Dentures?”

The object in her hand was a denture molded after her jaw. It was near invisible even when held directly in the candlelight. Frost knew, straight away, what it was imbued with, and for that she could not help but faintly laugh.

“It’s really dentures. You… Haha… It took fifty days to perfect this? How many molds did you go through?”

Frost was still in disbelief that this was what took Jury so long to create. It was not out of mockery, however. The absurdity of an object as simple as dentures requiring such an enormous amount of time to create was humorous. Additionally, it did not help that dentures were such an obvious solution.

That laughter quickly faded as she wore a somber look. The dentures meant far more to her. More than one could believe, despite its simplicity. The time alone was proof of Jury’s devotion, and she found herself whispering an inaudible apology for laughing.

“Try it. If it feels tight anywhere then I can get it fixed. It shouldn’t get in the way. At least not from what I’ve tested. And it should be durable enough to last a while.”

Frost recoiled lightly, as if snapping out of a trance. She nodded and swiftly put the dentures on. They fit incredibly well, to the point where she struggled to tell if they were even on. She chewed the air, and then, she bit into the spoon.

It bent. That was expected. What wasn’t expected, however, was that the spoon did not break. It didn’t sheer, nor was it taken off the handle. The spoon’s structure was preserved.

… Huh… Does it really…?

Her hands began to tremble. The spoon dipped into the soup, piling crutons and meat.

“Wait, Frost. Don’t you want to change spoons–?”

Frost did not wait. She couldn’t. The spoon plunged into her mouth, and at once…

*Crunch*

*Chew*

Her eyes lit up. She nearly jumped out of her seat after a single bite. The food sloshed in her mouth as she froze in place, as if her entire life was flashing before her eyes. Then, she sank into her seat and chewed again.

And again.

And again…

“Frost?”

“Gam?”

“Crunchy…”

“Is… is it good? How is it?”

“Malgam?”

*Plink*

Frost spoke midchew. The spoon slowly descended to the table. The texture explosion left her utterly speechless, and when she took another spoonful of soup, she murmured:

“It’s so salty…”

Frost laughed. She sniffled and wiped her face, only to find damp stains along her sleeves.

I was crying? When did I…?

Indeed. She didn’t even notice that tears were tumbling down her cheeks. The experience moved her to the point where nothing but the flavors and textures bursting in her mouth mattered. In fact, the reason why the second bite had become so salty was because she had unknowingly been crying into her soup.

Not only that, but after an unknown amount of time which felt like an instant – her spoon clanged with the bottom of the bowl, and she was surprised to find that it was empty.

“What was I…? I was… Um…”

How embarrassing… It’s just food. Don’t trip over your emotions because you can eat normally again. Tch... But… I shouldn’t feel ashamed. I’ve wanted this. Why should I be embarrassed in front of my own family? This is what they wanted to see… And what I’ve also wanted for so long.

After fighting her inner turmoil, she showed Jury the empty bowl with a vibrant smile, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

“It was delicious.”

“Gam!” Joy pointed at the other contents of the plate.

“You are from the soup bowl, rather than Jury’s plate.” Jury laughed with moist eyes. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it. Thank you, Jury. I love you. I love you.

I love you

.”

Each ‘I love you’ became increasingly emotional. Her hands went flying across the table as she piled her plate, refilled her bowl with a new type of soup, and stuffed her mouth full of as many new experiences as possible.

Chicken? Crispy skin, juicy interior. The cartilage? Frost had fun ripping it off from the bones like a wild dog. It made food enjoyable again, because she could finally interact with it as human. Even if she wasn’t human anymore, it was important to her that she preserved as many facets that kept her feeling human.

Because at the end of the day, that was what mattered most than any of the thousands of labels that had been given to her. And to think that the person crying over the textures of food was the same person who ruled the Nexus.

Joy had never seen Frost cry before. It never crossed her mind that Frost could cry. She knew Frost as a strong person, and Joy thought of herself as weak for complaining about losing a hand.

It was a lesson for her, and as if sensing this, Jury tapped Joy’s head with her tail, expressing that it’s ok to cry. One of the first lessons Frost learned in Elysia was precisely this, and it came from the one person who refused to cry despite her agony.

That person was Carpalis.

Such thoughts returned to Frost as she sniffled. Beneath the table, her tail and Jury’s became intertwined, moment before Joy’s tail was brought into the knot. One of Frost’s dreams was to live a normal life. To gain a sense of normality.

There was no better proof that she was already living this life – despite how hectic it was – when she was eating dinner with her wife and her daughter on the same table.

As always, it was Jury – Jury, and only Jury – who knew how to alleviate Frost’s heart.

Anytime she felt down, Jury would be there to talk to her.

Anytime she was sad, Jury would come to embrace her.

And now, Jury had created an irreplaceable gift for her…

… And she could not help but to fall in love with her wife all over again for the hundredth time.