Ilyara observed the two young men before her, their incredulity visible as they grappled with the reality of her presence. Here was a figure of legend, one whose status supposedly surpassed even that of their emperor. Yet she sat casually sipping tea, an air of enjoyment enveloping her as she savored their astonished expressions.
"This feels good," she remarked, setting her cup down with a contented sigh. "Seeing you two is refreshing."
Silence hung in the air as Erik and Valcroy exchanged glances, both perplexed by her casual demeanor. Erik's gaze was unwavering, analyzing her every move.
"You shouldn't stare at a lady like that," she chided playfully, causing Erik to falter, speechless. In his mind, she was a grandmother figure—how could she be so mischievous?
"And you should think of a lady like that, no matter how old she is." Her teasing tone widened Erik's eyes. Ilyara's lips curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect she had on him.
