The scenery shifted once more, and this time they were inside a calm and beautiful chamber, one which Lior assumed to be Isolde's personal room. She wore a dejected look on her face as she sat down upon one of the chairs, her posture rigid, her expression sharp. Lior stepped forward as though to sit as well, but the chair in front of him was suddenly flung away from his reach by an unseen force. Startled, he looked up at his sister, Isolde.
She folded her arms across her chest, holding her chin high with a cold authority, her eyes steady upon him. With a voice that carried both disdain and discipline, she declared,
"A Ravenhart never gives up, and I expected far more from you. Bluffing? That is beneath us. No, we are not bark with no bite. You, Lior, will definitely pick up your dagger and fight."
Her words were firm, brooking no denial.
