Rose and Emilia

The voice came from behind. Emilia, seated comfortably on the plush white couch, had her legs tucked under her as she worked across both her phone and laptop. One screen flashed with figures.

The glow reflected in her sharp, focused eyes, though there was something softer in her presence today.

Rose turned, frowning slightly. "Do you ever rest, Emilia?"

"I do," Emilia replied without even looking up, fingers still dancing across the keyboard. "When I sleep. Someone's got to get some shit done around here, and I find peace in the grind."

Then, almost as an afterthought, she added with a small smirk, "Unlike him, rest doesn't matter much when you're practically untouchable, right?"

Rose's eyes narrowed with a knowing gleam. Oh? There was a subtle shift in Emilia's voice—just enough. She wasn't as composed as she wanted to seem.