Morgan
I straightened my back and tried to school my expression into something that would be deemed acceptable, though I wasn"t sure I managed, especially as the smell of dinner was making my stomach turn.
Not because there was anything wrong with any of the food the cooks had prepared. If anything, it was the opposite. And that was the problem. Everything had been prepared to perfection, creating a lavish spread that was far too abundant for just my father and me. The knowledge that other people in the Nest were probably starving only made matters worse, and made it less likely that I"d be able to enjoy the meal laid out in front of me.
"Try some of the bread, Morgana. The kitchen prepared it fresh today," Father said, gesturing to the loaf in the middle of the long table.
It smelled
