Velka had been acting strange all day.
Not the kind of strange that would usually set off alarm bells, but something subtler. Something softer, hidden beneath careful glances and lingering smiles that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was the sort of quiet difference you only noticed when you knew someone inside and out like a chord slightly off-tune in a familiar song.
I watched her across the dining hall, feeling oddly unsettled. She sat with Mara and Elira, laughing at something Mara had said. It wasn't her laugh at least, not the one I was used to. This one was lighter, warmer, less guarded. More confident.
And Velka Nightthorn was never less than guarded. Her defenses were like the obsidian walls of Arcanum itself: immovable, unbreakable. But today, she seemed different. Easier. Happier, maybe.
I didn't like it.
