(At least she's having fun,)
he thought, aware of the dryness creeping into his own throat. He had spent the night in the thick of the siege, illusions and Shadow Servants weaving a tapestry of confusion that paved the way for an almost surgical strike. Now, seeing his companions handle the aftermath, he felt a faint relief. They were all cogs in a precise machine—he set the stage, and they managed the next steps.
