"Are we done yet?" Serena asked, barely audible over the chatter of workers and the clatter of wagons being loaded.
Livia cast her a sidelong glance and shook her head. "Does it look like we are done?"
Serena sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. Most of the revelers had long since wandered off, guided home by the call of soft beds or stronger drinks, but the square still buzzed with the lingering hum of activity. Some villagers were still seated on overturned crates, swapping stories with their neighbors as children darted between empty tables. Workers bustled around them, packing linens, sweeping away debris, and collecting the last of the untouched platters.
Serena leaned her weight onto one leg and rubbed the back of her neck. She hadn't expected to still be here. She had imagined the evening ending with the dancing, or perhaps the quiet retreat to her room with a warm drink. But Livia had tugged her into the post-feast cleanup without so much as a warning.
