Sitting in the first seat on the right side of her father, directly across from Marianna, who sat glaring at her from the left side of the dining table, Eira felt as though she were caught in a silent battle of wills. The air around the table was charged, thick with unspoken resentment. The soft clinking of silverware against china was the only sound as she carefully picked up her fork and took a small bite, acutely aware of Marianna's gaze piercing into her. Even Eliot noticed, though he chose to ignore it—much like Eira had been doing since she came downstairs.
After eating a few more spoonfuls, she decided it was time. Dropping her fork, she stared straight at Marianna. "Is there something you want to say? If you do, say it. I don't appreciate you staring at me like you want to bite and claw at me across the table," Eira said, her voice low but steady, carrying a mocking undertone.
