Yura knocked lightly on the chamber door, but the soft sound was enough for Syris to snap her head toward it with a grin that was far too sharp to be friendly.
"Well, well, look who decided to show up," Syris said, voice teasing, as if she were inspecting a new toy. "Finally come to see me, have you?"
Yura stepped in, cheeks pink, trying to keep her composure despite the lingering warmth from the night before.
Syris didn't help.
She leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed, letting her robe slip just enough to tease without revealing too much.
"You've been enjoying your break?" Syris asked, smirk widening. "Or are you just here because breakfast smells better than your conscience?"
Yura's hands twitched at her sides. "I—um, I thought I should bring you—" She held up the tray she had brought, the plates precariously balanced.
"Of course." Syris said, tilting her head. "Bring me something. I'll judge how well you did. Don't disappoint me, little maid."
