"That's what is happening in the North. So I suppose half of us need to move there to help."
Isolde explained calmly at the long dining table, though nothing sat upon it except crystal glasses filled with a deep red liquid.
The absence of food made the room feel ceremonial rather than domestic, as if this were less a meal and more a council of judgment.
The dining room itself was unnervingly serene. Flames danced lazily within the fireplace, casting warm light across stone walls while the steady crackle of burning wood filled the silence between words.
"Hm. Unbelievable." Ulrich finally broke the quiet, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.
"I never imagined that House would be involved in something like this."
"But we still aren't certain, Your League," Fleur replied, leaning back in her chair, legs crossed with practiced elegance. "That spider net could belong to anyone."
"True," Isolde said, lifting her glass and taking a slow sip. She exhaled softly afterward.
