Viking Academy by S.T. Bende

Author:S.T. Bende [BENDE, S.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S.T. Bende

Chapter 15

THE MAIN DINING HALL was considerably fancier than its academy counterpart. Not only were the tables set with linen napkins and what appeared to be legit silverware, but they were etched with ornate, mythological carvings that ranged from Thor’s hammer to an eight-legged horse to a massive, fanged wolf. And every single female gracing the long rows of tables had dressed for dinner.

Every female but one.

I skulked between Axel and Helene, neither of whom had mentioned the dress code, and wished fervently that I’d changed out of my training clothes. I didn’t own anything formal, but even the apron-dress the seamstresses had gifted me would have been better than the leggings, belted tunic, and cape I was currently rocking. Despite my attempt to channel invisibility, more than a few women looked up in disapproval as I slunk onto one of the polished benches at a corner table.

Way to make a first impression, Saga. Nailed it.

I averted all eye contact as I unfolded my napkin, set it across my lap, and filled each of our glasses with water from a nearby pitcher. Axel settled on the bench to my left, and Helene slid in across from us. They both looked up with easy smiles as a server carried a full tray to our table.

“We eat as a family here. Others will probably join us shortly,” Helene explained as the server unloaded a plate of vegetables, a loaf of crusty bread, and a tureen filled with what had to be the mutton stew. Brown chunks of meat floated among peas and carrots in a thick broth.

“And for you, Miss Helene.” The server set a plate of cheese and bread in the center of the table before whispering, “I know how you feel about the mutton.”

“Gods bless you, Thyra.” Helene placed a hand to her heart. “This is my new friend, Saga. She’ll be sharing the cheese platters with me on mutton night, if she knows what’s good for her.”

“Hey,” Axel protested. “I love this stew.”

“Lucky you. You get the whole bowl to yourself.” Helene smirked.

“Hei, hei, Saga. It’s lovely to meet you.” Thyra offered a friendly smile. “If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.” I glanced down at my plate. “Oh, do you have an extra fork? I seem to be missing mine.”

“Fork?” Thyra tilted her head.

“You know, like . . .” I looked to Axel’s plate, but his fork was missing too. And Helene’s. I picked up my spoon. “Like this, but pointy?”

Helene shot me a curious glance. “We don’t have pointy spoons here. Was that something you used in your old tribe?”

I snuck a glance at the table across from ours. Sure enough, its occupants stabbed chunks of mutton with their knives—no pointy spoons in sight.

Good Lord. I’d wandered into a world where forks hadn’t been invented yet. Either that, or they hadn’t made their way to Vikingdom. Bizarre.

“Uh . . . yeah.” I set my spoon down. “Sorry, my mistake.”

“Valkyris must seem very strange to a newcomer,” Thyra said kindly.

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