Lunch began beneath an unusual tension.
The food was excellent.
Every dish laid across the long table had been prepared with the refinement expected of the royal castle: tender roasted meat with fragrant herbs, glazed root vegetables, warm bread with a crisp crust, delicate soups, fruit preserved in honey, and several small dishes whose scents mingled warmly in the air.
Yet no one spoke at first.
Kaliantha sat at the head of the table, her eyes moving quietly from one person to another. She did not stare openly.
Her attention was enough.
Esther sat nearest to her, trying very hard to look calm.
She held her spoon carefully and ate only in small bites, as if a single wrong movement might ruin the entire meal. Her shoulders were tense. Every time a servant approached to refill a glass or offer another dish, she seemed uncertain where to look.
Hermione was better at concealing it.
