Serenia reached into her gear, her fingers brushing against the fine leather of her pouches until they closed around a heavy, ornate object. She pulled out a golden goblet, its surface etched with intricate, swirling patterns that caught the dying light of the embers.
She was a woman of meticulous preparation; she never traveled without the tools of her station, and a toast was a ritual she refused to neglect.
"To our Master," she declared, her voice cutting through the stillness with a sharp, melodic edge. She raised the vessel high, the gold gleaming like a predatory eye. "And to us."
"His golden harem."
Glacielle met her gaze, her expression stoic but her eyes softening with a rare, quiet reverence.
"To family," she corrected softly.
The goblets collided with a delicate, crystalline clink, a small, fragile sound that seemed to underscore the immense weight of the bond they shared.
