The light blinds his unaccustomed eyes for a moment, and he squints -- and then instinctively tenses at Joffrey's voice. For a moment, his dark eyes bore themselves into the black-clad woman's back, and there is a promise there.
Then his face relaxes into careful neutrality, even though his shoulders are still tense. He glances at Joffrey, at the woman in the elaborate clothing, the man in grey -- they seem unharmed, but that means nothing -- and then the woman in black with her marble.
Two wizards, then; one of them swift and armed even discounting whatever powers she may have. He ignores the sinking feeling in his stomach, and returns his gaze to Joffrey.
"In time for what?" he asks, because it seems to be the sort of thing that ought to follow.
"Your compatriot," Joffrey replies, gesturing at Shonagon. "Was making an interesting proposal. You have worked together for a long time, have you not?"
From her seat, Varrå smiles for no visible reason. Her smooth lips are the color of dark berries.
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Then his face relaxes into careful neutrality, even though his shoulders are still tense. He glances at Joffrey, at the woman in the elaborate clothing, the man in grey -- they seem unharmed, but that means nothing -- and then the woman in black with her marble.
Two wizards, then; one of them swift and armed even discounting whatever powers she may have. He ignores the sinking feeling in his stomach, and returns his gaze to Joffrey.
"In time for what?" he asks, because it seems to be the sort of thing that ought to follow.
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From her seat, Varrå smiles for no visible reason. Her smooth lips are the color of dark berries.
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He's saved from having to find an answer by the entrance from the library.