The laughter in the room had finally begun to die down, replaced by a comfortable hum of camaraderie.
Zaya was sprawled across the floor, lazily tossing a pillow in the air while Sapphire picked at the threads of the couch cushion, her smug grin fading as the energy in the room softened.
I leaned back against Lise, my head resting on her shoulder, feeling the weight of the evening settle into my chest.
"Honestly," Zaya said, breaking the silence, "if we survive this tournament, I think we deserve some kind of medal. Or, at the very least, a vacation."
"You say that like we're fighting wars," Sapphire quipped, tossing the pillow at her. "It's just a tournament. You've fought bigger things than that dragon today."
"Yeah, well, that dragon didn't get my lunch order wrong every day for a week like someone I know." Zaya smirked, her gaze darting toward Sapphire.
