Time had a strange way of moving when left to its own devices. Elysia hadn't realized how quickly the hours had passed since Malvoria left her room.
Morning had slipped away like a thief in the night, and before she knew it, it was already time for lunch.
The grand dining hall felt emptier than usual despite the company. Elysia sat at the long, polished table alongside her father, Thalor, and Zera, whose usual sharp gaze flicked between her plate and Elysia with an unsettling intensity.
The air between them crackled with unspoken questions, unresolved tension from their previous conversations still lingering like the faintest wisp of smoke.
Elysia sighed softly, pushing the food around on her plate. The silence stretched painfully, broken only by the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain. It was suffocating, almost unbearable.
Where is she? The question burned in her mind, unspoken but persistent.
