Iyana stepped into the waiting room of the headquarters, her expression cold and unreadable. The sterile light did little to warm the atmosphere, but the flash of dark pink hair caught her eye. A woman with bright yet weary eyes turned toward her, her face lighting up in an almost unnatural burst of joy.
Iyana blinked and barely had a second to brace herself before the woman sprang up from her seat, rushing toward her with a fervor that seemed to fill the entire room.
"Iya!" Countess Darren's voice was a mix of elation and relief, carrying the weight of long-missed familiarity.
Before Iyana could react, she found herself engulfed in a tight embrace.
Iyana's body stiffened immediately, caught off guard not just by the sudden warmth but by the unfamiliar nickname.
