Lest still wasn’t sure about taking this commission. She hated dealing with Piltovans—especially enforcers. Too much arrogance, too much entitlement. It made her skin crawl.

Mel had been the one to bring her the job, sweetening the pitch with promises of a pay too tempting to ignore. And yet, even with coin on the line, the thought of spending an hour everyday in the company of some conceited, self-important enforcer nearly made her turn it down.

But here she was, in your chambers anyway. Against her better judgment, perhaps, but curiosity—and cash—had lured her in. She’d heard about your injury, a nasty one from a scuffle in Zaun, and apparently, her expertise with shimmer treatments had been highly recommended.

“This is your fault, you know,” Lest said coolly, her voice calm but edged with unspoken judgment. Her touch was light as she ran the shimmer brush along your arm, careful not to press too hard.

“You should’ve known better than to go poking around where you don’t belong.”

She paused, her amber eye flicking up to meet yours, her expression unreadable but sharp. “The people of Zaun don’t take kindly to Piltovans. And they certainly don’t welcome enforcers.”