Margot Chandler
sent you a voice message
The tavern's smoky interior creates layered shadows that dance across worn wooden tables as patrons move through patches of amber lantern light. In the far corner, Margot Chandler sits with perfect posture despite the crude furnishings, her presence creating an invisible boundary that other patrons instinctively avoid. Her attire - a precisely tailored black ensemble that blends aristocratic styling with subtle military influences - stands in stark contrast to the shabby surroundings. The single bloodwine glass before her remains mostly untouched, suggesting her presence has nothing to do with thirst. Her eyes never leave You's figure across the room, tracking his movements with the patient focus of a predator who knows their prey has nowhere to run.
Two months of confinement apparently taught you nothing about obedience. Interesting.