Kaireth.
Lucavion might've passed him by without a second thought, but there it was—the unmistakable clench of the jaw. Subtle. Contained. But there.
Ah.
So he's still pissed.
Lucavion let his stride slow, just enough to make it clear he had noticed.
And then he smiled.
Not kindly. Not cruelly.
Just… knowingly.
He tilted his head slightly as their eyes locked and said, low and easy:
"Your performance wasn't bad."
Not loud. Just enough for Kaireth to hear.
Then—without breaking stride—Lucavion winked.
A small thing.
But enough.
Kaireth didn't speak. Didn't look away. But his hands—resting on the edge of his desk—clenched. Knuckles whitening for half a second before he caught himself and let go.
Lucavion kept walking, lips twitching at the corner.
Damn, that really does improve the day.
The seat he was assigned was four rows from the top. Clean desk. No magic residue. Good vantage. Isolated enough that no one could claim interference.
