Chapter Five
Breakfast feels wrong. Too calm. The long table is laid out with fruit, eggs, toast, and enough sides to feed five people, but it’s just me and Viktor. He eats like it’s any other morning. No questions, no probing, not even a reminder of the Training Room or the mess last night.
I hate how normal it feels.
“Good morning,” he says simply, pouring coffee.
“Morning,” I reply, cutting into melon with deliberate care.
For a while we eat in silence. I focus on chewing, on swallowing, on the taste of orange juice instead of the weight of his eyes. The quiet should comfort me, but instead it buzzes at my nerves.
“I’ll be at the library after this,” I announce, mostly to remind him that I’m not going to be shadowed.
He only hums, not objecting, which irritates me more.
When my
