The Incarnate stared intently at Finn, then leaned back abruptly and laughed as if those words had never left his lips.
But Finn had heard them clearly. Recognized them for what they were.
A warning. A threat. A promise.
He sensed Lucine's amused smile behind her veil, felt her attention fixed on him with that familiar mischief. But he didn't look.
He instead maintained his neutral expression, cataloging the threat with cold calculation, same as he'd done for every danger he'd faced since arriving in this world.
The Incarnate gestured casually toward an empty table near the raised platform. "Please, sit. Make yourselves comfortable. We have much to celebrate tonight."
Finn moved to the indicated table with Thalia and the Mnemosyne, their footsteps the only sound in the suddenly quiet hall. Everyone was watching, trying to read meaning into the exchange they'd only half-witnessed.
As soon as they settled into their seats, the Incarnate rose from his throne.
