Lilith offered a slight smile as she saw the box in Elowen's hands. "Elven blend?"
Elowen nodded gently. "Tea first. Then answers."
Liliana didn't wait for instructions. She stepped forward and took the box without a word, her hands already in motion, clean, efficient.
She broke the seal with a flick of her thumb, measured out the leaves by feel alone, then set the pot to steep with practiced calm.
Every movement was precise. Nothing wasted. Nothing rushed.
The scent filled the room within moments—sharp citrus at the surface, clean oil from pressed leaves rising just behind it, and then something darker and softer underneath, like warm bark that had soaked in sunlight.
Elowen walked to the seat across from Lilith and folded her hands in her lap. She didn't lounge. She didn't lean forward. She just sat firm, focused, but calm.
"You didn't write the reports," she said.
Lilith didn't deny it. "No. We let the Crescent file them."
"I want your version."
