More than an hour has passed at this dinner already, and as the minutes tick by, the awkwardness increases. Minerva’s children have made it their mission to make me uncomfortable, their dark eyes boring into my skin constantly. The girl, whose name I don’t know yet, seems the worst.
If my parents aren’t bickering beside me, they are deathly quiet, and I can’t decide which is worse. At the far end of the table, the conversation seems to be flowing, chattering and laughter floating up to our miserable end. Every time I glance down, Caspian is staring at me. My cheeks heat with blush under his intense gaze and I long to go down and talk to him, but I don’t. I don’t know what the protocol is at this dinner, and I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself than necessary.
I have also
