RAVYN'S POV
The air thickened around me, not with magic this time, but with something far heavier—expectation, humiliation, and the cloying scent of jasmine that wafted off the silks overhead like the perfume of death. Lady Dust turned to face me fully, her arms behind her back, the glint in her eyes veiled by what could only be described as exquisite cruelty disguised as poise.
"I said that was good for a beginner but…" she began, her voice soft, syrupy sweet—too sweet. The kind of tone reserved for coaxing mice into traps.
"I never got to finish my statement, child."
Child. The word alone bit into me. She said it with a lilt that sounded maternal to the casual ear, but it might as well have been a blade drawn across velvet. I didn't need to be told twice—this wasn't praise. It was a setup.
So this was it, then. My punishment. Not a whip, not a strike. Nothing so crude. No—Lady Dust was far more elegant in her cruelty.
