Lethia's gaze brimmed with excitement, and her grin gradually stretched wider at the sight before her eyes.
The woman Varrel called the oracle stood near the bed. Lethia stepped inside and clicked the door shut behind her, quietly.
The woman tilted her head, eyes narrowing in mild confusion.
"I think this is not your supposed room, miss. Are you getting lost?"
Lethia scanned around the room that used to belong to her father, then let out a mocking chuckle.
"And I think this is not your room either. You should know I used to be the owner of this mansion. It's impossible for me to get lost."
Still dissecting the oracle from head to toe with her eyes while smirking, she walked over to the sofa and plumped onto it.
The oracle's lips curled faintly into a knowing smile. She turned back toward the bed, tracing its edges with a glowing sapphire stone, her lips moving in whispered chants like she was performing some sort of ritual.
