The moment Marisse's last words fell, a ripple went through both groups—subtle in motion, but unmistakable in focus.
Every pair of eyes shifted toward Selenne.
Even the ones who didn't fully grasp the significance of the accusation seemed to understand its weight. The Magister Primus was a title wrapped in authority, influence, and respect. To hear that its holder had no disciples—that she had withheld that fact during her own tour—was enough to stir quiet speculation.
Elara caught the flickers of exchanged glances, the slight tilts of heads toward one another. 'They're waiting for her to falter.'
But Selenne didn't.
She straightened, the lines of her cloak falling clean. "That one," she said, her voice carrying without strain, "is correct."
The murmurs stilled.
