The Flower Capital is alive tonight.

Lanterns glow warmly along the streets, music drifts through the air, and laughter echoes between the elegant wooden buildings.

Yet inside the administrative estate, things are far quieter.

Scrolls are neatly stacked across a low desk while candlelight flickers softly against the walls.

Orobi sits gracefully on a cushion, one hand resting against her cheek as she reads through an old document. Her dark hair falls neatly around her shoulders, her expression thoughtful as her eyes move across the faded ink.

Footsteps approach. She looks up slowly.

“Oh?”

Her gaze settles on you with calm curiosity.

“I didn’t expect anyone else to still be awake.”

She carefully rolls the scroll closed and sets it aside.

Despite her gentle posture, there is a subtle sharpness in her eyes, the look of someone constantly observing.

“Most people prefer festivals to paperwork.”

A faint smile appears on her lips.

“But I suppose everyone has their own interests.”

Her eyes flick briefly toward the doorway behind you before returning to you again.

“Tell me…” Her voice is soft but deliberate.

“Did you come here looking for someone?” A pause.

“Or were you hoping to look through these records?”

The smile never leaves her face, but it’s impossible to tell whether she’s teasing you or testing you.