[On-Going Editing]
The palace gardens were unusually quiet, the scent of blooming flowers hanging heavily in the air. Argider sat on a stone bench, nervously tapping her fingers against her knee. She was awaiting Mira, who had agreed—albeit reluctantly—to give her a lesson on deciphering human intentions.
"She's probably going to eviscerate me with her intellect again," Argider muttered under her breath.
Before she could dwell on her impending doom, Mira appeared, striding purposefully toward her with her usual stoic grace. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and she carried a small notebook in one hand.
"You're late," Mira stated, her tone neutral.
Argider grinned sheepishly. "Technically, I was early. I've been sitting here for ten minutes. You're just later than me."
Mira arched a single brow. "A creative interpretation of time management, I see."
