#Chapter 136: Blessing of the Moon

Sophia I expected a grander entrance. You know, a red carpet, a few mini water bottles, maybe some hot hors d’oeuvres passed around on a tray. But no. Rude. The grand tent smelled like a perfume store that got into a knife fight with a butcher shop. Lavish silks, glittering chandeliers (who even travels with chandeliers?), and fur-lined cushions made the space look like a royal harem meets a very successful drug dealer’s hideaway. Not my taste, but sure—go off, King. Not that I could complain, it was still better then my ragged cabin. I sat cross-legged in one of the velvet chairs, picking at my cuticle with a file (because nail health still matters in war, duh). Across from me, Gingi stood beside the Rogue King, GrimMaw, holding her usual “I’m too brilliant for emotions” face while going on and on about genetics or curses or whatever. I’ve met her a few times in the past, but even I could never get past that poker face. Not surprised she turned up here. Besides, those lo