Osiris carried bowls and water with an expression full of injured dignity because he still felt unfairly exiled from the fire.
Zyran peeled and cut things with the dramatic bitterness of a fallen noble. Ophelia and Shelia arranged the vegetables together while whispering to each other.
Valen stayed close enough to Ophelia to steady her whenever she moved too quickly.
Luca kept finding reasons to drift near Shelia whenever she needed something heavier moved, then pretending it had happened by coincidence every single time.
Isabella noticed.
Of course she noticed.
And because she was Isabella, she tucked that little information away at once for future use.
The filling came together first, fragrant and rich. Then the wrappers were prepared. Then the folding began, and because several people were doing it for the first time, the shapes quickly became ridiculous.
Osiris made one that looked like a wounded fish.
Zyran made one that was somehow pretty but deeply suspicious.
