'What was she thinking?'
Atticus threw questioning glances at Anastasia again and again, but she ignored every single one, calmly setting the food around the table as though she couldn't feel his eyes burning into her back.
Around him, Avalon, Magnus, Aurora, Caldor, and Ember sat quietly in their seats, the atmosphere thick enough that even Caldor occasionally sent him pitying looks. It was as though every one of them understood the significance of this moment far too well.
Still, Atticus found that his attention kept drifting back to Anorah.
He had no idea what effect Zoey's presence would have on her already fragile nerves, and the thought alone made his brow crease as he studied Anorah's still figure beside him.
'She's okay… right?'
"So, Anorah, yeah?" Aurora said suddenly, squinting at her, "What's your problem?"
"My… problem?" Anorah blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
"Well," Aurora shrugged, unbothered, "there's gotta be something wrong for you to end up with him."
