Zephan;
Dinner at Nagari is usually silent.
Not tense silence…just… the quiet type. The peaceful type.
The kind Aunt Selthía prefers. The kind Zethar and I have grown used to since childhood.
Words tend to feel unnecessary in this castle unless we need them.
But tonight, as Elian sits at the long oak table beside me, everything feels different.
He looks small. Still worn out.
Still carrying that invisible weight in his chest.
But at least he's here. At least he isn't upstairs alone, crying over things I can't help him feel better about.
I help him brush off a strand of hair about to get into his eye, and just then Aunt Selthía sits at the head of the table.
Without acknowledging any of us. She begins to eat quietly as usual.
Zethar starts eating too, and I'm about to dig into my meal when I notice Eliàn watching her… carefully.
