Serenya's POV
Celestine lounges back in her chair, stirring the last of her latte like she’s considering whether I’m worth another minute of her time. Her gaze drifts over me—hair, clothes, hands—assessing, dissecting. I can almost hear the arithmetic of her ego deciding where to place me.
“Actually,” I say softly, letting the words fall with just the right measure of hesitation, “I was hoping to get better. Watching someone like you… it’d help me learn what real technique looks like.”
Her head tilts, lips curving into a knowing smirk. “You think I just hand out free lessons?”
“Of course not,” I reply quickly, eyes widening like I’ve overstepped. “I’d never assume that. But maybe…” I let my voice taper off before adding, “I could treat you to lunch sometime? Or maybe accompany you to a
