Lilith leaned back slightly, her voice calm but certain. "You should. From you, it will matter."
She glanced toward one of the side panes where a liaison from a rival school had been sitting, pretending not to pay too much attention while his hand kept moving over a sheet of paper.
He had stared too long at Ethan's quiet adjustments, which never looked like much until you felt the room start to ease without knowing why.
The man scribbled quickly and then tucked the paper away, like a child caught drawing something he wasn't supposed to.
"Even the guests feel it," Lilith said, the corner of her mouth lifting as if she couldn't quite hide her amusement.
"They won't ever say it the way it is. They'll dress it up with words like potential, promise, raw ability—something vague enough to protect their pride.
But it's the same thing. They don't know why their shoulders drop or why their jaws unlock after he moves his hand, but they feel it all the same.
