Elowyn sat at the far end of the cadet dining table, back straight, face unreadable.

Baron was there at his own spot—but he didn’t speak.

Azpen hadn’t said a word either. He was eating without any restraint.

And Riven? He leaned casually two rows behind, his elbow on the table, eyes fixed on her like he was waiting for her to... do something.

She said nothing, only glanced at the plate in front of her.

Roasted chicken thighs.

Golden. Hot. And glistening.

The others at the ...