By the end of the second day, Emily was exhausted. She was slumped over the table, chin resting against the smooth, wooden surface, her eyelids heavy with sleep.
Every bone and muscle in her body ached, and her head throbbed, and it felt like the pounding was echoing throughout the chamber, but nobody else seemed to care, so she guessed it was just in her mind.
Adrien seemed equally tired, though he did not let himself appear anywhere near as drained, maintaining perfect posture in his seat, back straight, shoulders squared.
He'd occasionally nod or tilt his head just a touch. Other than that, he stayed motionless, as though he were a statue.
He would make the occasional soft noise - usually a sharp intake of breath, but sometimes a hum. Or even, very rarely, a small cough. But apart from that, he remained stoic.
