Sharp eyes perpetually lit with Consight, braided black hair tied in an impossible knot, a face as placid as stone.
Contrary to how everything, living or otherwise, acknowledged her presence with great to mild admiration, Navvexr acknowledged nothing except the task she'd come for.
She did, of course, spare a look up at the terraces to the one person who didn't have a shred of admiration for her. It was a look somewhere between disdain and pity.
Ylva's temperate mood soured immediately. She might have been lit on fire.
Navvexr didn't spend a moment more antagonizing her. The General in the arena gave a low bow as she gracefully walked past him. The yellow-haired candidate, along with everyone else on the metal slab, was on one knee, staring at the floor. For anyone working to insert themselves into the hierarchy of power in this Breaking Chasm, this was the optimal gesture of respect for the Grand Generals.
