Meredith.
The clinking of silverware against porcelain began slowly, cautious, like everyone at the table was waiting for Draven to set the tone.
Servants moved like shadows, placing wine and bringing steaming trays to life across the long spread of roasted meats, soups, fruits, and freshly baked bread.
Draven's voice was the first to break the silence.
"You've all traveled far today," he said, his tone calm yet weighted, "so eat and restore your strength. Tomorrow begins what truly matters."
His words were simple, but his gaze cut across the table like a blade—resting just long enough on Gary, then on Mabel, before moving on. Neither of them dared speak.
Wanda lifted her glass with stiff fingers, forcing a sip, though her eyes remained downcast.
I busied myself with serving Xamira first, helping her with a small portion of soup and bread before I lifted anything for myself.
