FIA
The second Morrigan led us into the now empty kitchen, it started to smell like rosemary and butter.
The Grand Luna was moving around the space with the kind of efficiency that spoke of decades spent in this room. She pulled out a pan before retrieving ingredients from the refrigerator. Her movements were practiced and sure.
"Sit," she said without turning around.
I glanced at Cian. He guided me to one of the chairs at the small table tucked into the corner of the kitchen. The wood was worn smooth from years of use. I sank into it and the exhaustion I was sure I didn't feel, hit me all at once.
Cian took the seat beside me. His hand stayed in mine.
I did appreciate that the kitchen was warm. Warmer than the rest of the estate. Maybe it was the stove that Morrigan had just turned on. Maybe it was something else entirely.
