Without hesitation, Rhea reached for a plate and began to serve herself. She heaped grilled slices of beef and lamb, added a tangle of sausages and two runny eggs, then ladled a thick porridge studded with diced meat into a bowl. The smell alone made her stomach growl. A sprig of herbs went on top for good measure, and she poured a glass of juice, humming quietly as if she were in her own small kitchen.
The sound of her cutlery echoed across the dining hall, shattering the still air. Dozens of heads turned toward her, conversations died midword, disbelief flickering across every face. Even the air seemed to pause.
