26 March, 1369. Magdaline Castle, Islia.
Celia was in a dour mood at dinner, as she had been for the past few days. She sat at the high table between her parents, taking small bites from her plate and tasting none of it.
She could see Lauren at a table a little distance away, surrounded by their mutual friends. Lauren aimed dark looks at her every so often, clearly still angry. Celia didn't care a bit about that.
What was driving her a little wild was the way all her childhood friends had clustered meekly around Lauren after their quarrel, which meant they were too scared to talk to Celia anymore.
I suppose it makes sense, Celia thought as she picked at a vegetable stew. I'm only here temporarily. Whereas if one of those girls upsets Lauren by talking to me, they're still stuck sharing this court with her once I'm gone.