17: The quest for peace

“Where are my manners?” I sigh, realising I haven’t invited him to join me, “I know this might not be what you normally eat—” 

“What do you think I normally eat?” he asks, a bit of humour in his deep voice. 

‘Honestly, human flesh.’ I don’t dare say it out loud. 

My shoulder lifts in a mild shrug. “Something fancier and richer, filled with fattened meat you'd consider most important. I know this isn’t any of that, but care to join me?” I stretch the fork in my hand over to him. 

I studied at the Unique Academy for six years and I saw how the rich kids behaved; they carried themselves with pride and grace and did not mingle with just anyone there. The poor, like myself, kept company with those in their social status, and the rich did likewise. There has always been a bridge between us and I have expected Dane to maintain, but he hasn’t done that ye