Breakfast was... uncomfortable.
Not in an obvious way. No one raised their voice, no one made out-of-place comments. Everything was, on the surface, the same as the day before: light conversation, elegant movements, a well-established routine.
And yet, something felt off.
Ryan sat next to me.
It wasn't by chance.
She did it naturally, as if there were no other logical option. She took her cup, tasted the tea, and started eating as usual. Unceremoniously.
McQueen was across from us.
Her posture was perfect, as usual. Her expression, serene. But there was something in her gaze that wasn't there the day before. It wasn't annoyance.
It was focus.
"Did you sleep better?" Bright asked, breaking the initial silence.
"Yes," I replied. "Although..."
"His arms were hurting," Ryan interrupted, without looking at me.
I blinked.
"How did...?"
"It shows," she said simply.
Palmer let out a laugh.
"Wow, that was fast. You're already analyzing him."
"It's not analysis," Ryan replied. "It's obvious."
"Just like yesterday," Palmer added with a lopsided smile.
Ryan didn't answer, but her tail twitched slightly.
McQueen placed her cup on the saucer.
"It is normal," she said. "The accumulated effort takes its toll."
"It's not just that," Ryan countered. "He's using his strength wrong."
Silence.
"Oh, really?" McQueen asked softly.
There was no confrontation in her tone.
But there wasn't neutrality, either.
Ryan rested her elbow on the table.
"He overcompensates with his right arm. He loses stability in the turns."
I felt like they were talking about me as if I weren't there.
"I'm right here, by the way," I muttered.
"We know," they both answered almost at the same time.
Palmer had to hold back a burst of laughter.
I didn't know where to look.
McQueen lightly crossed her hands on the table.
"Even so," she said, "forcing him to correct it too quickly could be counterproductive."
Ryan tilted her head.
"I'm not forcing him."
"You made him repeat the movement several times," McQueen pointed out.
"Because it worked."
"In the short term."
The air grew tense.
It wasn't an open argument.
But it was close.
"Uh..." I interjected. "I can decide if I stop, right?"
They both looked at me.
Mistake.
Ryan spoke first.
"Then decide better."
McQueen said nothing, but her expression shifted slightly.
"Perhaps," she added later, "what he needs is not to choose between moving forward or stopping... but to understand when to do each."
Ryan let out an exhale.
"That sounds nice, but it's not going to teach him how to move better."
"And your method isn't going to teach him how to sustain himself in the long run."
Silence.
Bright looked from one to the other, clearly uncomfortable. Ardan watched with discreet interest. Dober didn't intervene, but she didn't ignore the scene, either.
I was in the middle.
Literally.
"I think..." I began.
No one listened to me.
"Then you teach him," Ryan said suddenly.
The sentence landed directly.
McQueen didn't react immediately.
"Teach him your way," Ryan continued. "Let's see what happens."
That did change something.
McQueen held her gaze.
"Is that a challenge?"
Ryan shrugged.
"Call it what you want."
Palmer rested her chin on her hand, visibly entertained.
"This just got interesting..."
"There is no need to turn this into a competition," Ardan intervened calmly.
"It isn't," Ryan replied. "But it already feels like one."
Another pause.
McQueen shifted her gaze to me for a second.
It wasn't long.
But it was enough.
"Very well," she finally said. "I will do it."
My brain took a moment to process it.
"You will?"
"Yes."
Ryan nodded, as if that confirmed something she already expected.
"Perfect."
"Wait a minute," I interjected. "What exactly is happening?"
Palmer smiled.
"They just turned you into the center of an experiment."
"Not helping," I muttered.
McQueen stood up gracefully.
"Let us finish breakfast," she said. "Then we will begin."
Ryan also stood up.
"In the garden."
"In the garden," McQueen confirmed.
Both left the room in opposite directions.
The silence they left behind was... different.
Not tense.
Charged.
I stared at my cup.
"I don't think this is a good idea..." I muttered.
"Oh, I do," Palmer said with a broad smile.
Bright sighed.
"We will try to keep it from getting out of hand..."
"Try?" I repeated.
Dober finally spoke.
"It already did."
I swallowed hard.
I looked toward the doors they had exited through.
And for the first time since I arrived at the mansion... I felt I was going to have to choose something before I was ready to do it.