The faint hum of Victoria's mana blades echoed through the dim chamber, their ghostly glow casting jagged shadows against the wall. Felix leaned casually against a polished dresser, his reflection faintly distorted in the sleek surface. The smell of burnt metal lingered from her earlier display, mingling with the heady scent of Victoria's perfume.
"You're awfully quiet tonight," Felix said, his tone light, almost teasing.
Victoria, seated on the edge of her desk, ran a cloth along the edge of one of her conjured blades. "I was thinking about Thorne," she murmured, her voice calm but laced with something darker. "He was a fool, yes, but he did one thing right. He reminded me how easy it is to lose everything if you don't act first."
Felix arched a brow, watching her with the practiced patience of someone used to waiting for people to reveal more than they meant to. "You sound sentimental."