"If we're playing games," she said, "then let's make it fair."
Her eyes met his—firm, unflinching.
"Your move."
Lucavion's brow lifted—just slightly.
"Wow…" he said softly, almost under his breath. "Wasn't expecting that, definitely."
A pause.
Then—
"Heh."
The sound was quiet, not quite amusement, not quite surprise. Just a note of genuine acknowledgment, unpolished and sincere in a way that made her fingers still over the rim of the cup.
Priscilla scoffed, low and almost dismissive. But not quite. The edges of it were… careful.
Lucavion didn't miss it.
"A game, you say," he murmured, eyes narrowing in the faintest grin. "You are an interesting woman."
"What?" she asked flatly, her tone laced with warning.
"Nothing."
But the way he said it—that lazy half-smile ghosting over his lips again, the kind that said everything—told her it wasn't nothing at all.
He let the silence linger just long enough to tighten between them like a string drawn taut.
Then—
