Page 50 of Sobek’s Joy

“You’re an insufferable snob?”

Horus huffed but didn’t argue. He fumbled with the butter knife while Rudy demonstrated how to butter bread, and the children giggled when he dropped a slice on the floor.

“I’ve defeated Seth in combat,” Horus announced. “Multiple times.”

“Congratulations. Your bread’s burning.”

“What?” Horus spun back to the griddle, where smoke was starting to rise. He waved his hand frantically. “How do I make it stop without magic?”

Rudy laughed so hard he had to lean against the counter. Sobek rescued the sandwich, flipping it onto a plate while Horus glared at the offending griddle, like it had personally insulted him.

“This is humiliating,” Horus said.

“This is what family life is like,” Rudy corrected. “You’re welcome here.”

Something shifted in Horus’s expression. He looked at the children, at Sobek, at Rudy, and then down at the butter knife still clutched in his hand.

“Family,” he repeated softly.

“Yeah.” Rudy started buttering more bread. “So let’s try again, and this time, watch the temperature.”

Horus nodded. He buttered the next slice more carefully, placed it on the griddle with exaggerated care, and actually smiled when it started sizzling at the right rate.

“I’m doing it,” he said, sounding genuinely surprised.

“You are.” Rudy handed him cheese slices. “Now add these and flip it in about two minutes.”

The children cheered when Horus’s first successful grilled cheese came off the griddle. Rose clapped, Jack gave him a thumbs-up, and Timothy declared that it looked delicious.

Horus’s smile grew. “Perhaps I’m better at this than I thought.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Sobek warned. “You’ve made one sandwich.”

“And it’s perfect.”

It was a little burned on one corner, but Rudy didn’t mention that. He just watched as Horus made three more sandwiches, improving with each attempt, while the children offered commentary and encouragement.

They sat around the small kitchen table - six bodies squeezed into a space meant for four, with Horus perched on a wobbly stool someone had dragged in from the garage. The god looked completely out of place in his gold tracksuit, surrounded by children with sticky fingers and a kitchen that had seen better days. But he was smiling.

“This is nice,” Horus said eventually. “Strange, but nice.”

“That’s family for you.” Rudy took a bite of his sandwich. “Strange and nice in equal measure.”

Horus nodded slowly. His gaze drifted to the window, something wistful in his expression. “When I find my mate...if I find my mate...do you think they’ll want this? This chaos?”

“If they’re meant for you, they’ll love the chaos.” Rudy reached across the table, squeezing the god’s hand briefly. “And when that happens, you bring them here. We’ll throw them a proper welcome party.”

“With pancakes,” Timothy insisted.

“With pancakes,” Rudy agreed.

Horus’s smile turned genuine. “Thank you. For treating me like... like just another person.”

“You are just another person.” Rudy shrugged. “An annoying, dramatic person who wears too much gold and can’t make a sandwich without supervision, but still a person.”

“I am the…”

“King of Egypt, we know.” Sobek shook his head. “Let it go, Horus.”