Emma ground her teeth, her fan clenched so tightly that the lacquered ribs let out a faint, protesting creak.
"Someday," she said, her voice low and sharp, "I will make you regret this."
I chuckled, unfazed, lifting my hands in mock surrender.
"Hehe, let's save that pleasure for later. Just remember—I'm always doing my utmost to fulfill your wishes."
Her glare could have drawn blood.
Still, the atmosphere shifted.
Everyone present understood it instinctively.
We were done waiting.
It was time to move.
Time to fulfill Emma's long-held desire—
and, conveniently, to take care of a few matters of my own.
I straightened, letting my gaze pass over the group.
"Both of you," I said calmly, "prepare proper outing attire. Nothing flashy. Bring simple weapons as well."
Emma stiffened immediately, as if I'd asked her to burn down the palace.
