The meeting room was one floor down, and I knew who was inside before the guard opened the door. Not through any magic: through irritation. Some people have a presence. Lyssairia had always had an accusation.
There were four people in the room. Three I didn't know. The fourth I did: cat ears, golden eyes, older, not by much, but enough. Lyssairia Veyra stood by the window in dark formal clothes that looked expensive enough to be diplomatic and practical enough that she could still kill someone in them.
She looked at me, and I looked at her, and for a while neither of us said anything. Four years was a long time. Apparently not long enough to improve her expression.
Her eyes went down to Dream Haven, and back to my face. "You still carry a pillow."
"A better one."
"Of course it is."
I looked at her ears. "You still have those."
Elizabeth made a sound behind me. Lyssairia stared at me, and then one corner of her mouth moved, very slightly.
"Still annoying," she said.
