She sounded like someone describing years of accumulated pattern — a system, a machine, something that operated according to rules that had been established long before any individual encounter with it and would continue long after.
Nyla remained pressed against her side, listening with the focused attention of a child who understands more than she is supposed to understand.
Liora looked down at her. Her expression softened for a moment — and then, so suddenly that everyone in the room noticed it, froze entirely. Her eyes widened. Something had changed behind them, a recognition arriving without warning, her gaze moving from Nyla to Thessian and back to Nyla again with an urgency that had not been there a second before.
"No..." The whisper escaped her before she seemed aware of forming it.
Nyla frowned. "What?"
