The dining table in Villa 1 was rarely this crowded, and it was never this loud.
Ashe had commandeered the kitchen earlier, resulting in a massive platter of roasted meat and root vegetables. She believed in calories and protein, not delicate plating.
Vane sat at the head of the heavy oak table. Mara was perched on the chair to his right, her legs swinging as she devoured a piece of buttered bread.
The warmth of the hearth fire pushed back the chill of the high altitude winds rattling the villa windows. Vane felt the baseline tension in his spine begin to unwind. The dull throb in his fractured left arm was entirely manageable now.
He reached for the heavy copper pitcher in the center of the table to pour himself a glass of water.
