Anthesis of Sadness

We had eaten everything. And when I say everything, I mean down to the last fruit scale, the last drop of nectar, and even the fruit-skin chips I thought were just decorative.

But the most surprising thing in all this... was Lysara. Sitting cross-legged in front of the cart, she had devoured. Silent, but with an almost animal intensity. Her black eyes fixed on each fruit like a prey. She bit, licked, swallowed, drank... as if she had never been allowed to eat for pleasure.

I watched her between two sips of Fireblood.

— You know you’re supposed to eat slowly, right?

She didn’t answer.

But she looked up, a piece of Night Scale between her fingers.

— It’s too good, she whispered.

I raised an eyebrow, amused.

— Wow. Three words in a row. You’re really opening up this morning.

She looked down, a slight shiver crossing her shoulders.

But she added, softly: