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It takes Isla a whole twenty seconds to realize she’s supposed to respond. She bows clumsily and says, “H-Hello, I’m Isla. Thank you for helping me.”
Aurel makes a motion with his eyes that Isla can only interpret as a smile, then says, “It was the least I could do, Isla. Come with me. I’ve had a meal prepared for you, and you may eat as much as you wish.”
He sweeps around and leads Isla out a door on their left, into what is unmistakably a dining hall. It’s large and just as immaculate as everything else Isla’s seen so far, and clearly meant for parties of tens or hundreds of people, not two. White silk tablecloths are carefully draped over large round tables spread across the hall, and each table has plush seats with white cushions and dark frames. Only one table has been set with blue napkins and food, and Aurel invites Isla to sit.
Isla sits.
