Elius hadn't expected anyone to notice him. He had dampened his presence so well that even the insects buzzing near the window had avoided his area.
So when the voice rang out—sharp, assertive, real—his golden eyes blinked in genuine surprise.
"…What?"
He looked to the side.
The girl with the electric-blue bangs and freckled cheeks was still there, standing firm, pointing down at the seat like it was her throne.
"That's my seat," she repeated.
There was a moment of awkward silence. A flicker of tension.
Elius considered his options.
A flicker of Qi could freeze her muscles, or subtly warp her perception so she forgot. But… no. He didn't need conflict. Not now. He had too many eyes around, and too many unknown variables.
He sighed inwardly.
Then, slowly, he nodded. "My apologies," he said with a respectful tone.
