Planting The Unwanted Spy

The campfire crackled softly, its warm light flickering against the dark silhouettes of the surrounding trees. The evening air carried a faint chill, but the camaraderie near the fire created a comfortable warmth. Estella stretched her arms above her head, her posture relaxed as her voice took on a teasing lilt.

"Look at you, Cerys," she said, her grin wide and playful. "Admit it, you're starting to enjoy your glow-up. Who knew the Lone Wolf had such refined tastes?"

Cerys, seated across from Estella, gave a small, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips—the closest she'd come to a smile all evening. Her green eyes caught the firelight as she responded in her usual blunt tone. "It's just cream. Stop making a fuss."

"Oh, come on," Estella pressed, leaning forward. "You look amazing. If I didn't know better, I'd say you might even like the attention."