Sarafina POV
The inn was quiet.
Too quiet.
After everything that had happened in the forest, the warmth of the small roadside inn felt almost unreal. Lanterns flickered softly along the wooden walls, casting golden light over the tables as travelers murmured over simple meals.
I barely tasted the food in front of me.
My fingers stayed wrapped around the warm cup of tea Lyra had ordered for me, but even that warmth couldn't stop the chill inside my chest.
No one spoke much during dinner.
Cassian sat across from us, his silver eyes watching the room like a sentinel. Lyra tried to keep the atmosphere normal, asking small questions and forcing light conversation, but the weight of the day lingered over all of us.
Alistair sat beside me.
Close enough that our shoulders brushed.
I hadn't moved away.
And he hadn't moved either.
Every time the memory of the witches turning to ash surfaced in my mind, my fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
