[ There's a spark of something when Seviilia's thoughts turn toward her. It's sudden abd bright and fills the space between all of them with a flash like that of the noonday sun emerging from behind a cloud. It's joy; simple, unfiltered joy at being thought highly of, of being backed up, at being reassured and cherished. She can't hide it, not through link, and she doesn't try. ]
(They haven't noticed anything yet. They won't notice anything now.)
[ Her voice, though, is the easy arrogance of someone who is young and thinks themselves invincible. Even if she, of all people, ought to know better by now. ]
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( They haven't noticed anything yet. They won't notice anything now. )
[ Her voice, though, is the easy arrogance of someone who is young and thinks themselves invincible. Even if she, of all people, ought to know better by now. ]