"Wait a minute — you're going with us, right?"

The look upon the Overlander's face, eyes bulging, mouth drawn wide, brow a-crinkle beneath the mess of his hair, is nothing short of comical. He stares intently at Luxa, blinking as his eyes dart around, taking in her elaborate gown, the distance which she keeps from the boat.

Luxa's jaw tenses. She presses her tongue momentarily against the roof of her mouth. "No, Gregor, I cannot," she says then. Carefully, she banishes the fiery spite from her mouth. Instead, her speech is laced with passiveness. "I was only allowed to join you on the first quest because 'The Prophecy of Gray' dictated it. This quest has been deemed too unnecessarily dangerous for a queen."

The spite resurges. But it is deliberate. Her eyes find Vikus, sparking with muted ire — an expected reaction, yet it carries with it defeat. She sees the apology on his face, but nothing more, for he believes her.

He believes that she has given up.

The Overlander has been fooled, too. He looks positively irritated and, perhaps, even a slight bit disappointed. "So, who's going, then?" he says.

Luxa has to grit her teeth not to laugh. Oh — these fools. They believe her. They believe that she would truly abandon a quest so important, one that may determine the future of her people, so passively — they truly believe that!

But it is good. It is good that they are of that assumption. For that gives her time. Time, and leeway. And those are things she will need once she and Aurora set off.