Aurora’s POV
When I finally made it downstairs, the dining room looked like someone was trying to apologize to me with food.
The long table was set with everything I liked. There was a basket of warm bread in the middle, butter softening on a little plate beside it.
Two kinds of soup, one creamy and one tomato. A platter of roasted chicken that still had steam curling off the skin. Eggs done three different ways.
Fresh fruit cut into careful pieces. A small jar of honey. Even a pot of the tea my mother used to make me back home, the one with the cinnamon.
I stood in the doorway for a moment and just stared at all of it.
Lucas looked up from where he was sitting at the table, and his whole face brightened the second he saw me.
“Oh thank god, you are alive.” He pushed his chair back
