The Crystalline Haven's grand ballroom lived up to its name—a circular space where faceted surfaces caught and amplified the magical lighting, creating an atmosphere of refined splendor. Circular tables accommodated ten students each, with the professors seated at a slightly elevated table that overlooked the room.
I found myself directed to the Class A table, where Lucifer Windward already sat with perfect posture, his aristocratic features set in their habitual expression of polite interest. He acknowledged my arrival with a slight nod.
"Arthur," he said, his voice carrying that peculiar mix of genuine warmth and instinctive competitiveness. "I trust you've prepared adequately for whatever challenge awaits us here."
"As much as possible without knowing the specifics," I replied, taking the seat beside him.
Lucifer's emerald eyes studied me with uncomfortable perception. "You seem... preoccupied. More so than usual."
