Alistair faces the door at the sound of footsteps, drawing my attention as well. Briony strides in with an ease that suggests she expects everyone’s focus to shift her way. Her hair swings elegantly over one shoulder as she crosses the dining hall.

Without sparing me even the faintest glance, she chooses the chair immediately beside Alistair and takes her seat.

His greeting is as devoid of warmth as the suddenly chill air around him. “Briony,” he says, voice ...