Far from the sharp gazes directed at Mae.
The clear clink of silverware striking porcelain plates echoed through the spacious dining hall, becoming the only sound daring enough to break the silence.
Liona stood upright in the corner of the room, her hands neatly folded in front of her white apron. Her eyes, however, refused to stay still. They kept stealing glances toward the long dining table illuminated by the warm glow of a crystal chandelier. There, three figures sat, spaced so far apart that the distance itself felt uncomfortable.
The dining hall felt too large for only three people. Every sound—cutlery, fabric, breath—lingered longer than it should. The silence wasn't empty; it pressed down heavily, filled with thoughts no one dared to voice.
Baron Voss sat at the head of the table, cutting into his roast meat with calm, methodical movements. To his right, the Baroness ate gracefully, even though the portion on her plate was barely touched. And across from her sat Lucas.
