Moria takes her half of the ingredients, pushing a few of Peter’s closer to him.
Peter reaches across the table for his jar of nettle.
Moria reaches for her jar of salt.
Their fingers touch.
Peter pulls back, curling his fingers, and waits.
Moria grins at him, giggling, and takes her salt.
Peter turns, looking at all his utensils and ingredients. Cutting his eyes over his right shoulder, he watches Sarah pick her cuticles while looking at the floor. She keeps her head low. Her hair drapes down the side of her face, hanging just a few inches off the ground. He glances around at the other slaves, standing just like her. Well, at least she knows how to follow suit.
Calder clears his throat, looking around the room. “Okay class, the first part of this recipe is blending the nettle, salv
