"Let's not beat around the bush," Kainal said, his voice clipped and firm. "Do you want to shake hands with us or not?"
He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the edge of the polished obsidian table, the faint glint of his sapphire ring catching the dim light of the room.
From his side, Naime gave a slow nod. His eyes were sharp and expectant, like a hawk sizing up its prey. Both of them radiated a quiet pressure, the kind that demanded an answer.
I rolled my shoulders back, not bowing to their presence, and let a small shrug slip from me.
"Depends…" My voice carried no tremor, only calm calculation. "It depends on how much—and what—you can actually give me. To be frank, all I care about is resources. That's it. Resources."
