The Storm Clan's dining hall was buzzing with life, the clamor of warriors and apprentices blending with the aroma of freshly baked bread, roasted meat, and herbed soup wafting through the air.
Wooden tables were packed—some filled with rowdy groups laughing and swapping stories, others with people eating quietly, focused on their plates.
Sunlight streamed through high windows, illuminating the polished stone floor and giving the place a warm vibe despite the chaos.
Charles walked beside Elyse, the girl in the black tunic with brown stripes, his stomach growling with hunger.
'Finally, some food,' he thought, a faint smile on his face.
But as he crossed the threshold to the serving line, the cooks' glares from behind the counter stopped him cold.
There were three of them, all in stained aprons with hard expressions.
Charles recognized them instantly—they were the same ones who'd always treated him like garbage when he wore the white servant's tunic.
