The dining hall was long since empty. The air still carried the faint scent of the uneaten porridge and milk…but the bowls lay toppled, spoons clattering on the stone floor…a sticky trail of oats ran across the grain of the long oak table.
Two chairs were pushed back in a hurry, uneven, one lying on its side.
One of the maids froze as she entered.
"...What on earth…" she murmured, frowning. Her eyes darted from one overturned bowl to the other, then to the empty chairs. "Jasper? Willa?Where are the kids? "
Her voice echoed faintly across the chamber…no laughter answered…no giggles came back. Just silence.
The maid's heart gave a small, uneasy jump.
Children were rarely this quiet.
Normally by now, she would have heard Willa's shrill voice insisting that porridge was too mushy. She could be a handful when she wanted to. But now nothing.
She set the tray in her hands down and walked further in.
