SERAPHINE POV
Okay, listen, I fully expected the high mages to be arrogant, chin‑high, nose‑in‑the‑clouds, "we‑are‑ancient‑and‑powerful" type of people. What I did not expect was… Them circling me like desperate honor‑students begging the class valedictorian for notes.
I mean—Really? These men who supposedly "hold the arcane foundations of the kingdom" were asking me about basic herb temperature control, why I used grass, and what kind of stirring angle I preferred.
They were literally scribbling on their enchanted notebooks like: "Lady Seraphine, what brand of grass?"
"Lady Seraphine, clockwise or counterclockwise?"
"Lady Seraphine, should the pot feel warm or emotionally warm?"
I wanted to die on the spot. They looked like toddlers asking the moon how it shines.
And then, oh boy, They invited me to the mage tower. Not with a carriage.
