I instinctively slid behind Zyon, Art, and Freya. Cowardly? Maybe. They passed me a glance—somewhere between judgment and amusement—but didn't comment. Thankfully.
Freya, ever the polite one, took the initiative. "Aunty," she greeted, "since when were you here? Is this… an illusion? Or are we actually somewhere else?"
Isolde chuckled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "No, this is real. The moment the dragon entered Everhart, I had it trapped in here—overlayed on the forest. You were in an illusion before. But now you're in reality."
She turned to Art. "He knew. Didn't tell you though."
All eyes locked onto him like a firing squad.
Art raised his hands, laughing nervously. "Haha… I might've forgotten. Or, maybe I wanted to see the look on your faces when the truth hit. And trust me, I'm not disappointed."
I bit my lower lip to keep from saying something unfiltered. My fingers twitched with the urge to smash his nose in.
