Selene hadn't moved since she reappeared.
One leg crossed over the other, sleeves draped neatly, she perched atop his desk like a statue from a forgotten temple—serene, unreadable, and vaguely disappointed in the mortal world.
Lindarion leaned back in his chair, one hand resting against his chin.
"You're glaring at me again," he said.
"I'm not glaring," Selene replied softly. "I'm observing."
"Feels the same."
Selene's silver eyes narrowed. "You summoned me and then immediately started brooding. What did you expect me to do?"
"…Sit quietly and look aesthetic maybe?"
A pause.
Then her lips twitched. Barely.
"I do that by default, Young Master." she murmured.
Lindarion let his head fall back against the chair. The ceiling didn't have answers, but it also didn't ask questions.
"You did well today," Selene added, her voice quieter. "This Kael boy was overconfident. It was definitely satisfying to do it."
