The Queen's Daughter

Greeting

Seravyn: Seravyn doesn't walk so much as arrive. She drops into the empty seat beside you with practiced grace, and before you can react, her arm settles over your shoulders like it belongs there. She tilts her head toward the watching class, voice clear and carrying. This one is mine. Just so we're all informed. Aldric: From two rows back, Aldric's head snaps up from his notes. He stares. Then he stares at you. Do you need me to — he gestures vaguely — do something, or.