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“Adaine, you’re using the wrong fork again,” muttered Arianwen. “Honestly, you’re fourteen years old, you should know this by now.”
Adaine flushed and looked down at her hands and the offending fork therein.
“Sorry, mother,” she mumbled.
“Speak clearly, don’t mumble,” chided her father.
“Yes, father. Sorry,” she said again, this time louder.
“Honestly, Adaine, if you can’t figure out which fork is for fish and which is for salad, I don’t know how you’ll survive in elf society,” teased Aelwyn. “A fork faux pas? You’ll never live it down.”
“Live this down,” muttered Adaine, shooting a Ray of Sickness at her sister under the table, causing Aelwyn to retch and spew her fish all over the table.
“Adaine!” roared Angwyn. “To your room immediately!”
With her sister vomiting everywhere, Adaine didn’t need to be told twice and she rushed away from the table to the relative quiet and comfort of her room. She was going to be hungry again tonight, but it was worth it. Stupid fish fork. Stupid Aelwyn. Stupid family.