Up and down the dining hall, small round tables of contestants and their delegations sat hunched over books. Beside Aertis, Lyria was sitting with her brow furrowed in concentration, reading one of her personal tomes while trying to shovel forkfuls of quail and egg pie into her mouth without looking.
“Lyria, you’ll probably focus better later on if you eat,” Aertis whispered. She put a hand over the text inside the book.
“What do you call this?” Lyria replied, her eyes scanning in between Aertis’s fingers and moving her fork toward her mouth. She barely flinched when she hit her left shoulder with the food instead of her mouth.
“Insanity,” a voice sneered above them. Lyria looked up to see Aidria standing above them.
“Funny,” Aertis replied while Lyria tried to casually wipe gravy off
