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each one, spread out among the room. Up front is a long table, where the five leaders of the capitols sit, in order, as they were earlier that day.
    Tia walks around, searching for her assigned spot, when she hears Quade yell for her across the room. Of course alphabetical order, she remembers.
    “How is it going?” he engages as Tia scans the table.
    “My name isn’t here.”
    “I think I saw it over on that table.” He points to the one near the back.
    “Thanks,” she walks over to the table and sits next to a young Regnumian from Elatus, named Lucas. He has thick framed glasses on and wears a hand-me-down black suit with a grey tie. When she walks over to sit, he is invested in plucking the fuzzies from his jacket.
    “Hello,” he salutes Tia, offering his hand, “I’m Lucas.”
    “Hi, Lucas. I’m Tia.” She shakes his hand and smiles.
    “You are the girl who threw up.” He stares at Tia, with his mouth agape.
    “Yep, that’s me,” she sighs, turning her head toward the leader’s table. Javan Leporem enters and sits down in his chair, not interacting with the other leaders. Tia has a difficult time determining why his face is so familiar to her. His eyes scan the room, as if he is searching for something, landing where Tia sits. She quickly turns back to the conversation with Lucas.
    “Did they say what they were serving for dinner?” Lucas wants to know, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
    “Not sure,” she responds, turning back towards Mr. Leporem. He is now sharing pleasantries with the leader of Ignosco, Mrs. Pusillus. Tia has to admit, he is handsome.
    “I am allergic to anything with fish.”
    Tia snaps her attention back to Lucas. “What’s that?”
    “I hope it’s not fish, cause I’m allergic. Well, shell fish mostly. But any kind of fish makes me vaguely ill.”
    “Oh,” Tia mumbles, half listening. Her eyes find Quade, who is chatting with Kira. Tia feels a pang of jealousy rise up, momentarily, in her chest.
    “I’m also allergic to grass, dust, and dander,” Lucas yammers on.
    A clink on a crystal glass rings from the front of the room. It is Mr. Avery, who stands at his seat. “Let dinner be served!”
    Following his words, a long line of servers appear with the first course. They are dressed in red, collared shirts and black slacks. Each one is smiling as they enter the room. Tia wonders if they are trained to appear happy, or if it is actually a fulfilling act for them to serve other people.
    “Thank you,” Tia tells the server, as he places a bountiful salad in front of her.
    “Oh, do you have one without nuts?” Lucas requests.
    “I’m sure that can be arranged,” the server assures, grabbing the plate back.
    “Thank you, I’m allergic to nuts.” What a surprise , Tia thinks as she takes her first bite of the salad.
    Each course is more lavish than the previous one. The second course is a creamy soup that Tia does not recognize, but is warm and delightful on her tongue. The third course is poached salmon with Mousseline sauce. For the main entrée, they enjoy Filet Mignon with a rich balsamic glaze, a side of fresh cut green beans, and seasoned potatoes. Tia is uncertain how much more food her stomach can handle. Her body is used to so little that she has no room for dessert.
    “No, thank you,” Tia tells the waiter as he brings out a slice of cake.
    “You don’t want it m’am?” He appears puzzled. For the first time, not grinning.  
    “Nah, you can have it if you like.” She smiles to re-assure him.
    The server remains stagnant for a moment, unsure of what to do. Tia wonders if she broke him.
    “It’s okay, Caesar,” a deep voice calls from across the table. Tia turns to discover Mr. Leporem, standing behind the girl across from her. “If the young lady here does not wish to eat it, there is no need for it to go to waste. Finish serving, then take your break.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Leporem.” Caesar finishes serving the rest of the cake with