The dining hall smelled like coffee and unresolved tension when I reached the doorway.
Logan sat at the head of the table, sleeves rolled, reviewing a folder Rowan had slid across the tablecloth. Keal picked at a plate he clearly had no intention of eating, golden eyes flicking toward the door every few seconds like he could summon someone through sheer irritation.
"Where's Silver?" he asked, not quite masking the edge in his voice.
I stepped through the doorway before anyone could answer for me.
The wardrobe staff had outdone themselves. Soft green wrap dress, hair pinned back except for a few loose waves framing my face, the kind of quiet elegance that took effort to look effortless. I'd caught my own reflection twice on the way down and barely recognized the woman staring back.
Kea
