Fiona’s POV.
The food tasted like lead in my stomach. Not due to the chef’s lack of talent in regards to cooking, but my own nerves threatened to grind at the food before it got to my belly.
People glanced at us, their eyes would dart from their plate to us, with scrutiny then back to their plate, and then finally they’d lean into the dignitary seated at their side and whisper something under their breath. They occasionally shot us this odd, disapproving look that grated on my nerves more than anything.
Still, even with the sideways glances and the obvious gossiping, not a single person spoke to us. It was sort of odd sitting at such a large dining table, being totally scrutinised by everyone there and yet being so totally ignored, even by our own allies, Braine spared us one pitying lo
