The rest of the evening blurred.
After Levi left, promising he’d return in the morning, a maid wheeled Everette into the dining hall. The table stretched endlessly beneath glittering chandeliers, set with polished silver and porcelain that gleamed as though awaiting a feast. But the hall was empty, every chair save his untouched, the space so vast it only deepened his sense of smallness.
He barely touched the food. Every bite tasted faintly foreign, even though he knew it wasn’t. They’d made his favorite dishes, he could tell from the way they looked at him expectantly, but he had no memory of ever liking them. The flavors carried ghosts his tongue couldn’t place.
"Is something wrong, young master?" one of the servers asked gently.
Everette shook his head, forcing a smile. "No… thank you. It’s good."
