In front of me, I could practically feel Silvano enjoying this. I didn't even need to look at him. The audacity was radiating.
'I'll deal with him later.'
Preferably with something sharp.
For now, I lifted my chin slightly, summoning every ounce of confidence I owned and a few I borrowed from people who actually deserved to be in this class.
Guess how many?
One.
"I call this piece," I began smoothly, "Grace in Shadows, Shadows in Grace."
The moment I removed the cloth, the snickers instantly died.
For a moment, no one spoke.
My piece stood there—an elegantly carved figure of a girl. Her hair cascaded down her back in smooth, flowing lines, blending seamlessly with the delicate folds of her dress.
Every detail was intentional, from the intricate patterns carved into the fabric to the gentle curve of her arms resting at her sides. Her face was calm, eyes closed, as if she were caught in a quiet, peaceful dream.
