Not tonight

The library room fell into a silence as heavy and absolute as a graveyard, the quiet hum of the shimmering concealment barrier hanging in the air like a drawn breath.

Every gaze in the chamber remained fixed on Annie, who sat curled in the cushioned leather armchair, her pale face illuminated by the soft, fading silver glow of her residual magic.

Annie sank into deep thought, her brow furrowed as she mentally parsed through the intricate web of spirit pathways required for high-grade visual transfiguration.

After a long, agonizing moment, she exhaled a deep sigh that seemed to drain the last remaining tension from her shoulders.

A small, confident smile touched her lips as she looked up to meet Craig's expectant gaze.

She nodded firmly. "I can do it, My Lord," Annie confirmed, her voice soft but filled with quiet resolve.