Soren frowned.
The silence between them thickened.
There was just one question left and it was the most important one.
He looked at her steadily.
"What's in it for you?"
She did not answer immediately.
Instead, her gaze shifted slightly to the side, toward the wall lined with preserved fragments of dead eldritch parts.
"Personal reasons," she said at last.
That was all.
Soren raised a brow.
"That's not a good reason."
He leaned back slowly into the chair, careful of the tight pull in his chest. The stitches protested faintly, but he masked it.
"If I'm binding myself to a Primary Instructor," he continued evenly, "I need more than 'personal reasons.'"
For a brief second—
She smiled. It was not too much.
Just faintly.
Then she stood.
The movement was smooth, deliberate. Her tunic pants shifted softly around her legs as she stepped around the desk.
"It is not as though you have much of a choice," she said lightly.
Soren's eyes narrowed.
