The garden sitting room grew quiet after the maid withdrew, the door closing with a soft click that left only the faint rustle of autumn leaves outside the windows and the gentle curl of steam rising from the teapot between us.
Golden light filtered through the glass, warm and unhurried, painting the table and the porcelain cups in soft amber. It was the kind of peaceful stillness you rarely found inside the palace.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Liora held her cup with steady hands, her posture straight but relaxed, the calm composure of someone well-raised rather than timid. She watched the room with quiet attention, taking everything in without drawing notice to herself.
It was a useful trait to have.
While she sipped her tea, I focused inward and reached for that strange new awareness Nero had mentioned.
The sensation came easier this time, like letting my eyes adjust to the light.
A faint panel slipped into view beside her, clear and orderly.
Name: Liora Wayfarer
