Ragnor
The dining hall felt tense than usual tonight, and that was an understatement. I sat at the head of the long table, cutting into my venison steak that might as well have been cardboard for all I tasted of it.
Every nerve in my body was tracking one thing — Candace, seven seats away on my right, sitting upright with her spine ramrod straight.
She had chosen the chair. There were five empty seats between her and Reign, and she had picked the farthest one on purpose.
The wine-red dress did not help.
It was the same dress we had given her on her fifteenth birthday — Reign had picked the silk, Ryker had thrown in the ribbon at the last minute, and I had been the one to wrap it. She couldn't possibly have forgotten that.
She was wearing it tonight on the first dinner after our coronation, the first dinner where she sat at this table as Luna, and she was wearing the one piece of clothing in the world that could gut all three of us at once.
