Bab 180: A Problem Named Amara

Elara stood frozen as Amara, draped on Eirik's arm like a gothic fashion accessory, made her grand entrance. The whispers around the room morphed into a deafening buzz, and for a moment, Elara could only stare, her mind scrambling to piece together what was happening. Amara's smile was eerily smug, and Eirik? Oh, he looked insufferably pleased with himself, his smirk practically daring the room to react.

"Elara, stay focused," Marisol whispered sharply, pulling her back to reality.

Elara turned to see Marisol, Felix, and oh no Amara's parents stepping into the room. Helena Lyselle's eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape as she took in the sight of her daughter clinging to Eirik. Gerald looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

"What in the hell is she doing?" Helena hissed, her usually composed demeanor crumbling under the weight of sheer disbelief.

"I don't know," Elara mumbled, her heart sinking further with every passing second.