"I can't believe it…"
"That's Silverspell…"
"An invitation to become a Highsword member…?"
"For real…?"
"How is that even possible…!?"
Damian heard a chorus of whispers and murmurs around him. His friends stood frozen, mouths agape, clearly as stunned as the rest of the hall. Only Lucian, Evrin, and the Prince managed to maintain some semblance of composure. Einar, meanwhile, looked like her brain had short-circuited.
As the long-winded invitation speech drew to a close, the mess hall fell eerily silent. No one moved, no one spoke. All eyes turned to Damian, waiting expectantly for him to respond. The weight of their collective stare was suffocating. At last, Silverspell broke the silence.
"So… Young man?" His voice rang with sharp authority. "Do you accept or not? Don't keep us waiting now.."
