She waited patiently under the table, even when her legs were beginning to cramp. The men continued to drink wine until dinner was served. Her stomach grumbled audibly as the smell of food assaulted her. Fresh baked bread, roasted meat, boiled vegetables. The platters of food that the priests carried in were even more rich and lavish than the meals that were served at the Keep. She had eaten nothing since she took a bowl of greasy stew at the inn yesterday. Now she wished she’d had the foresight to at least tuck a crust of bread into her pockets.
Even after empty dishes and dirty utensils were cleared away, the conversation droned on and on. Another bottle of wine was brought and passed around the table. Willow didn’t know how much time had passed before the bishop finally called
