"What did you find?" he asked, his voice low and even.
Across from him, Nwadimma leaned back, cradling her glass with a pensive expression. She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she asked, "What do you want to know?"
His gaze sharpened. "I want to know about their interactions. Their expressions. What did they convey?"
Nwadimma turned her head slightly, eyes half-lidded as if replaying the events in her mind. When she spoke again, her voice had lost its casual edge.
"They weren't surprised by the city. Or the palace. Or us. They were… curious, but not awed. It's as if they've seen this before. Or something like it." She paused, swirling her wine. "But what caught my attention wasn't the envoy himself. It was the ones behind him."
Nwadiebube leaned forward.
"Go on."
"The apelings were in the crowd," she continued. "Trying to blend in. I don't think they expected anything unusual. But the moment the envoy stepped out, they stiffened. Just for a breath—but I saw it."
