Lyla
By the time Kyren and his men finally left their rooms and came downstairs, it was night already, and dinner was ready.
The dining room was dimly lit with lantern-style sconces that cast soft amber shadows across the long dining table. A fireplace crackled in the far corner, offering some warmth to the unusually chilly evening. Eleven members of the Hollow Kin filled the left side of the table while Kyren, ever fashionably out of place, sat at the head, draped in a sleek black dinner jacket, somehow looking both regal and annoyed.
Ramsey sat to my left, his hand casually brushing against mine beneath the table. Nanny, straight-backed and suspicious as always, flanked my right like an overprotective lioness, her eyes scanning every bite and gesture I made.
We ate in relative silence, and I was glad about that. I didn't want to be forced into small talk about anything. Besides that, I noticed Kyren didn't look happy.
