Finnick, for once, is still — hands tucked behind his head, gaze fixed on Finn instead of me.
That’s… not good.
Kieran stands near the head of the table, speaking in low tones with an older woman I haven’t met yet.
She’s tall, silver-haired, with the kind of face that’s seen too much and decided to keep going anyway. When she turns to look at me, her eyes are sharp but warm.
She reminds me of my mother… I think.
Kieran starts to introduce us, but I stand before he can.
“Thank you for taking us in,” I say. “For the healing. For the safety. I know it wasn’t easy, and I know we’ve brought trouble to your door.”
The woman at the head of the table studies me for a long moment.
“Elda,” she says. “I lead what’s left of this village.”
“Kaia.”
“I know who you are.” She doesn’t look away. “I’ve heard stories of the last Valkyrie. I’ll admit — I didn’t have high hopes.”
My heart kicks, trying to figure out what she means.
“I was wrong.” Her smile is slow, genuine. “Your shadows love you like you’re one of them. And you stopped to feed the curiosity and wonder of a little boy. You have a good heart, Kaia.” She gestures to the table. “Absentia is lucky to have you.”
I don’t know what to do with that.
So I sit.
I catch Kieran watching me from across the table. There’s something in his expression that looks suspiciously like pride.
Dammit.
I look away before I can think too hard about it.
The door opens behind us.
Bob tightens by my chair, edges sharpening. Mouse flicks his tail once under the table, a low warning only I feel.
Darian slips in, slightly out of breath, like he ran here. He’s trying to keep his expression neutral, but there’s something at the corner of his mouth. A smirk he can’t quite kill.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says.
Bob relaxes. Barely.
Darian takes the empty seat at the end of the table — furthest from me, still giving me space — and I catch myself staring.
What the hell is he so pleased about?
He catches me looking. The smirk gets worse.
Then schools his features like a child about to get caught.
I glance at Malrik. He’s watching the exchange with that quiet, knowing look he gets when he’s three steps ahead of everyone else.
His eyes flick to mine. One eyebrow lifts, barely perceptible.
I look away.
