"Then perhaps you should reconsider your view regarding women."
"Considering a certain person had a rather influential role in shaping those views…"
Her pulse tapped once at her throat.
She remembered Lucavion's voice cracking when he first said Isolde's name.
A crack he buried beneath laughter moments later—but cracks lived beneath the plaster.
'He shouldn't falter like that if he truly sees her as an ally.'
'Unless he still feels something.'
'Unless he remembers something.'
But she shut the thought down before it could finish forming.
She didn't want nuance.
Nuance wasn't useful.
Hatred was simpler. Cleaner. Sharper.
In hatred, she did not waver.
The candidate finished his trembling explanation. Selenne dismissed him with a curt nod.
"Next candidate."
A shuffle, another name called. More nerves, more theory, more stumbling attempts at impressing a Magister who did not believe in leniency.
