The arena was silent. Only the whispers of five remaining consorts could be heard as they stood at their stations, each before a gleaming pot.
Four of them stood tense, staring at the pot, unsure of what to do or what would be right. They whispered to themselves, calculating which ingredient to put in first.
Well…four only, because Serena had already begun cooking as if she were back in her own world.
She dropped the cut meat into the pot and crushed the starshard salt over it. For a moment, she frowned.
“Why are there no seasoning cubes or thyme? This stew is going to be tasteless.” The thought made her lips twitch, but then she clenched her jaw.
Winning was her only ticket out of Selvayra. The King would grant her wish, and she would vanish from their faces without birthing any st
