Destene stepped forward, lifting a glass and tapping it lightly with her knuckle, the soft clink cutting through the scattered chatter just enough to draw attention without demanding it, her posture straightening as she took on a rare air of formality that didn't quite match the usual ease in her expression.
"Alright, everyone," she said, her voice carrying across the courtyard as conversations slowly died down, "time for the opening speech."
She cleared her throat, glancing briefly at Falcon before turning fully toward him, her tone shifting—less playful now, more deliberate.
"Mr. Falcon," she began, "on behalf of everyone here, we welcome you… to our little corner of the world."
A forced cough cut through her words.
Mr. Jahmar.
Sharp. Intentional.
