[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]
After having an extravagant dinner prepared by Zeraphira, and let me tell you it was surprisingly divine—like she'd poured a piece of her soul into every dish—I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the chandelier of black crystal above the dining hall. The light reflected off its jagged edges, scattering faint motes of mana that shimmered in the air like fireflies.
Zeraphira sat across from me, watching in quiet satisfaction as I devoured the last bite. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dimness, her chin resting on one palm. "Satisfied, darling?"
"Yeah," I said, setting the fork down. "Didn't expect you to know about cooking, honestly—"
"Oh, then what do you expect~"
Trap.
I can see one from miles away, and this was definitely one. The lilt in her tone, the tilt of her head, the way her eyes 'sweeten' a bit, all of it spelt danger.
"The last time I fell for that tone," I said slowly, "I almost lost a lung."
