DARIAN
Morning light filters through the tall windows of the dining hall, casting a golden hue over the polished mahogany table. I settle into my usual seat, the weight of yesterday's battles still pressing heavily on my shoulders. The scent of roasted meats and freshly baked bread wafts through the air, but my appetite remains absent.
Adrian sits beside me, unusually quiet. His fork pushes food around his plate without much interest. I haven't caught Iris's scent on him lately, which means he's been keeping his distance, just as he should. It's better this way, safer for everyone involved.
Across from me, Adira sits with her eyes fixed on her plate, her posture rigid. She hasn't spoken a word since we sat down. The tension between us is palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the previous
