Penelope's eyes gleamed, catching the faint light from the chandelier like shards of ice.
Her fingers traced the rim of her teacup lazily, a rhythm that seemed far too deliberate for someone who claimed to be at ease.
"But certainty.." she whispered, voice curling through the air like smoke, "is a fragile thing. You guard your little secret as if walls and locks could keep it safe. As if rules apply in a game where I exist."
She tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into something that wasn't quite a smile—something hungrier, sharper. "So here's a promise, dear brother: watch your back… and your front." Her tone darkened, the sweetness thinning into something brittle. "Because I will be watching both."
Her gaze flickered briefly to the staircase, the one Anore had ascended moments before and lingered there, long enough for Eiden to feel the weight of it. When her eyes returned to him, there was no pretense left, only candor sharpened into a blade.
