A shimmer at the sidelines drew eyes—
Ameth, blonde and fierce, her uniform crisp and immaculate, purple lace peeking as her skirt hugged her curves.
She caught Silvia's arm, her icy blue eyes glinting with urgency, and pulled her to a secluded alcove just beyond the faculty benches, where the roar of the crowd dulled to a murmur.
The damp stone walls glistened under flickering mana lanterns, casting their figures in a soft, provocative glow.
Silvia's glasses fogged as she blinked, her auburn hair slipping from its bun.
"Ameth, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft with concern. "Are you feeling bad? Is something the matter?"
Ameth's lips curled into a sharp smirk, her blonde hair catching the lantern's light like a halo of flame.
"Ten silver coins," she whispered, leaning close, her voice low and urgent, her breath warm against Silvia's ear. "I'll hit twenty-seven over three rolls. That's my price."
