The morning was crisp, with soft rays of sunlight cutting through the mist that cloaked the demon palace grounds. Liria adjusted the strap of her sword sheath, her movements smooth and calculated. Though she was calm outwardly, an undeniable weight settled in her chest. She glanced over at Enara, who was fussing over her own pack while sparing a glance toward her mothers.
"You know," Enara began, a slight pout forming on her lips, "you don't have to look so smug about this, Liria. You're dragging me away from comfort, and I'm just supposed to be happy about it?"
[Oh no, heaven forbid Her Royal Highness breaks a nail while embarking on a legendary quest,] the system chimed in mockingly, its tone dripping with sarcasm.
Shut up, Liria thought bitterly, her jaw tightening.
