The lunchtime crowd filled the dining hall with chatter, clattering cutlery, and the scent of warm bread and roasted meat. Mia Ashford stood at the end of the serving line, her tray balanced between her palms, her thoughts far from food. She felt distant—from the students around her, from the school's uneasy atmosphere, from everything except the heaviness Elder Rowan's warning left inside her. Finish school first. Do not accept the bond yet.
She tried to focus on something simple, something normal. Eating. Breathing. Being invisible. That was enough.
The kitchen staff dropped a portion of sautéed vegetables and meatballs onto her plate, arranged a slice of honey-glazed bread beside it, and nodded for her to move along. She muttered a soft "thank you" and made her way into the hall.
