The restaurant was expensive.
Not Academy cafeteria expensive. Actually expensive—the kind of place where reservations required three weeks' advance notice and the menu listed prices that made normal people reconsider their life choices.
Syra had made the reservation. When you were Zenith 3rd Veil Exalted and adopted daughter of Riya Descartes, restaurants found tables.
The private dining room seated six comfortably. Currently occupied by five: Syra at the head of the table, Livia to her right, Raven to her left. Ava and Serx filled the remaining seats.
Riyan's absence was notable. Deliberate.
"So," Ava said, grinning with that chaotic energy she brought to every situation. "We're really doing this. The 'Riyan is gone so let's talk about Riyan' dinner."
"We're having a meal," Syra said calmly. Too calmly. Her Aberrant Wind affinity hummed at the edge of perception—unconscious response to stress. "If the conversation happens to involve my cousin, that's coincidental."
