Syris immediately raised a singular, elegant dark eyebrow.
The King of the Swamps looked at the rolled-up document, then up at his ten-year-old daughter. Tanith was standing with her small shoulders squared, her chin tipped up in the exact angle Syris used right before he completely dismantled a foreign diplomat.
"Grand plans?" Syris drawled, his velvety voice laced with a mixture of amusement and sharp suspicion. "Do tell, little serpent."
Tanith did not flinch. She simply gestured to her younger sister.
Iris stepped up to the edge of the parchment. The young illusionist grabbed the bottom corner of the heavy paper and began to walk backward. She walked past Kaelen's chair, past Torian's goblet, and kept going until she was practically standing at the completely opposite end of the massive dining hall.
