Fey's Stand
Aria's expression softened with curiosity, though her eyes stayed fixed on Fey. "She's choosing her moment carefully…"
Mia instinctively moved closer to Sona, her voice low. "Is… is she going to say something?"
Sona didn't answer immediately. Her blue eyes studied Fey with quiet intensity. "…She already is. Just not with words yet."
Cynthia stood composed, but her gaze sharpened a fraction. "She's stepping into the center. That alone is a statement."
Tsubaki exhaled softly, her posture straightening. "Then this isn't a whim."
Nova crossed her arms, watching closely. "No. It's a move."
Even the maids at the edge of the hall stilled, their whispers dying before they could form.
At the center of it all—
Fey kept walking.
Each step was light, controlled, echoing faintly against the vast marble floor. The distance between her and Leon wasn't far… but she didn't rush it. She let the silence stretch, let every eye follow her.
Her expression was calm.
Too calm.
