She studies me, but doesn’t push. Instead, she laughs softly. “And you look hungry.”
“I am,” I admit. “Starving.”
As I move toward the dining area, Nina follows, then suddenly pauses. “Have you seen what’s trending online?”
I glance back at her. “No. What now?”
She hesitates for half a second, then says, “It’s about the king and Queen Katerina.”
My steps slow. “What about them?”
“They say the queen is heavily pregnant,” Nina continues, watching my face carefully, “and the two of them look… very in love. Public appearances, smiles, the whole fairytale.”
“Oh,” I say quietly. “That’s… good for them.”
The words come out calm, polite—exactly how they should sound.
I sit at the dining table and start eating, focusing on the food, on the familiar rhythm of chewing and swallowing, on anyt
