We made our way back to the dining room, dressed in the same clothes we showed up in–all thankfully cleaned by the maids. I slid into my same seat next to Lyra, who was already there, looking like she'd just shown up from a trip to the spa–which she very well might've.
Isobel took her spot with her family: Lord Greaves at the head, looking gaunt as ever, skin pale and stretched tight over his bones like he'd been skipping meals for weeks. Lady Greaves was next to him, healthy and vibrant, cheeks rosy as she exchanged greetings and pleasantries with us, and Laurence, Isobel's brother, slouched in his chair, dark hair messy, expression neutral but sharp-eyed.
Lyra turned to me with a grin, passing the bread basket. "Morning, Lloyd. Slept like a baby last night. They had this enchanted incense going that knocked me out like a light! It even gave me lucid dreams! I'd tell you about them, but you're still a baby. I don't wanna traumatize you."
