Masterchef Tasim-4

The whole cathedral, with 50 000 seats, had gasped when the bride had entered. Yulia looked stunning, her unreal body tightly filling out the traditional white wedding dress she'd been given. She gave a big smile to the people. Captain Serrah, representing the Empire, walked her up the aisle, in her uniform. The king waited in his galla uniform, his big belly pushing it to its limits. When Princess Yulia finally arrived at his side, she blushed, then gave him her warmest look. "Damn, she is a hell of an actress," Stan thought.

After a long and excruciatingly boring seremony, Yulia was crowned Queen and the two were officially married. Stan had to look away as the greasy-faced king kissed his new wife. Now it was time for the feast.

Stan slipped out of the cathedral and made his way to the kitchen. In his borrowed uniform, nobody questioned him when he entered.

"Where's the head chef?" he asked a boy who was busy cutting green polinniums. The boy, not even lifting his head, pointed at the tall guy in the back.

"Hello, special delivery from Myrah," Stan said, and grinned.

"What?" the chef took him to the side and whispered.

"Your colleague was already here with the powder. We've put it in his soup as usual."

"You need to throw that out," Stan replied and winked.

"Extraordinary occasion, extraordinary measures."

With every dinner, the king was given a dose of an orgasm-postponing drug by Myrah, so that he could go on longer than usual with his wife, or harem girls. It was unclear to the empire if the king was aware of this fact. Tonight, however, he would be getting something else.

The chef groaned and took the small bag from Stan.

"Hmm, smells funny," he said, holding it up to his nose.

"Somewhat musky? Are you sure it's okay?"

"Hey, I'm just Myrah's delivery boy, how could I know?" Stan replied.

"Just remember that this one must go in his dessert, not the soup. That's what I was told to say."

The chef groaned again, and handed him the king's bowl of soup.

"Tell the boy to wash this, and get out! If I see another soldier, I'm serving him for mains!"

Stan grinned and slowly retreated. The bowl of timmonius soup smelled delicious, and he would hate for it to go to waste. It wasn't part of the plan, but hell, he was hungry, and it couldn't hurt.

"Here," he said and gave the empty bowl to the boy, who scratched his head and put it in the sink.