"Why is it taking so long?" Victor muttered under his breath; it had already been fifteen minutes since Vesperine left for the kitchen.
He lifted his left hand. To any ordinary eye, it looked like a normal hand, flesh and bone, nothing unusual. Yet beneath that illusion lay cold metal, carefully crafted with the help of Lyirrs. Over it, he had layered Nightfire's illusion so seamlessly that even he almost forgot he lost his hand.
'Not bad… I guess, I should treat Lyirrs later,' Victor thought, slowly clenching and unclenching his fingers, watching how naturally they moved, how convincingly they looked.
"Please accept my apologies for the delay."
The voice arrived soft and sweet, carrying a subtle warmth that lingered in the air.
Victor turned toward it...
Vesperine stood near the doorway, a tray balanced gracefully in her hands.
But the tray was not what held his attention.
