"Divine Researcher Saint Selene Veylor..."
Ricky muttered the name, tasting the unfamiliar syllables on his spiritual tongue. It meant nothing to him. He didn't know what a Divine Researcher was, and he sure as hell had never heard of anyone named Selene Veylor.
His confusion was plain to see—antennae twitching, compound eyes slightly widened, mandibles parted in uncertainty.
The Guardian spirit noticed it immediately. A glimmer of disdain flickered in her cold silver irises, and for a fleeting second, her expression turned several degrees frostier.
Pathetic.
How could a creature this ignorant be selected as one of the candidates for her creator's sacred inheritance?
The Guardian spirit's thoughts churned silently behind her pale, flawless features, but Ricky wasn't oblivious. His gaze had been locked onto her ever since she spoke, observing every micro-expression and slight shift in posture. He didn't miss the subtle change in her face—however quickly it vanished.
