Silvy let out a tiny, almost strangled noise and turned her head further away from both of them, her ears burning crimson now.
Kyle internally sighed. Of course. That explained the trauma in her eyes.
He didn't push further, though. He simply nodded, keeping his expression composed, even as he noted how Ricca watched him.
Not just with amusement—but with something else beneath it. Testing. Measuring.
Soon, with the flick of Ricca's hand, the food was brought in.
The dishes looked exquisite—rich meats, spiced vegetables, and delicacies that hinted at the region's wealth and influence.
But the moment the steam wafted toward Kyle, he froze. His senses, tuned to magic and mana as naturally as breathing, picked up the signature.
Foreign mana. Deep and slick like oil coating every morsel. Subtle—but not subtle enough to hide from him.
His stomach twisted—not from fear, but from the repulsion of instinct.
This was no accidental contamination. It was deliberate.
