The meal should have been ordinary: a large stone table, hot dishes releasing comforting steam, a little thick wine in coarse cups. But nothing was. Every clink of fork, every scrape of chair sounded hollow, drowned by the distant rumble of the arena being prepared.
Even here, in this private refectory, the walls vibrated like war drums.
I chewed without appetite, fingers tight around my cup, when Miyu broke the silence. She wore that provocative smirk, as always, but her eyes gleamed with a worry she couldn't hide.
— "So?" she said sideways, her elbow resting lazily on the table. "Not too stressed for tonight?"
I shrugged, forcing a smile that rang hollow. Stressed? Damn, it felt like an anvil was crushing my chest. But that, I would never admit to them.
Reina raised her head. Her face remained closed, her words sharp as a blade on a whetstone.
