Lancet stared at her.
Not at her face alone, though that was the first thing that caught him, but at the entire shape of her presence, the exact shape he had assembled in his head and then written into being.
Her elegant physique, her dark long hair with shades of pink, even the smooth line of her mouth that barely frowned a frown or a smile.
She wore the gear he had designed for her; the form-fitting white and gold mage's regalia. Class Group-S students were the only ones not required to wear the academy uniform.
Espel noticed him looking and her eyes narrowed just a little.
"Are you going to speak," she asked coolly, "or are you going to keep staring at me?"
Lancet blinked, then forced himself to stop admiring his handiwork. He dragged his mind back into place with effort and took a step back, crossing his arms in a weak attempt to look casual.
"I— I don't know what you're talking about."
Espel did not look convinced.
