When Lugh and Sela finally arrived at the guest lounge, they were caught off guard.
Aside from Lyra herself, the strange lady—whose name she still hadn't managed to catch—and the elf of the Cross family, Zhou, as their grandmother had called her, were all present.
Well, at least Sela was surprised. Lugh wasn't. He had expected it. Somehow.
Upon their arrival, Lyra's voice rang out like a whip.
"Lugh, you idiot!"
"…Okay, what?"
He said, blinking slowly, expression unreadable.
Everyone in the room turned sharply. Their gazes locked onto Lyra—sharp, piercing, questioning.
But she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were fixed solely on Lugh, boring into him with the intensity of a blade drawn halfway from its sheath.
"What did I do?"
He asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Well, you—"
She started, but then stopped herself. Her gaze shifted quickly to Xhi, who was already shaking her head slowly, eyes half-lidded with subtle disapproval.
