Kallisto's POV

I frown at Freya, trying to comprehend her question.

"Freya, you're requested in the dining room," a male's voice booms, breaking the moment.

A tall, muscular man with light hair and a scar on his cheek stands in the doorway, watching us.

Freya doesn't look back. Instead, she takes a deep breath and says, "Scar, I'll be right there."

Scar studies me for a long time, his expression somewhere between resentful and ...