The room settled.
Teacups clicked softly as Lyra and Evethra placed the trays down.
Alenia slipped into her seat, smoothing out her somewhat messy hair with the practiced grace of someone used to juggling seventy problems at once.
Selene sat poised, hands folded.
Lyratheia—calm, regal, and curious—took another gentle sip of tea.
Druvarn sat on the sofa, staring blankly into space like a man recovering from a spiritual injury, while Rue patted his head and Rina offered him a grape.
He accepted the grape with the solemn gravity of a warrior receiving his final blessing.
Kael leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, draconic eyes half-lidded, unreadable, and effortlessly elegant.
"Alright," he finally said, voice smooth. "Now that everyone who should be here is here—and everyone who shouldn't be panicking is still panicking…"
He gave Druvarn a pointed look.
Druvarn curled up into a tiny ball of shame.
"…let's begin."
Selene nodded approvingly.
