Round 246

Jeane’s crimson eyes narrow as she watches Abby search her person at the stranger's command, a low growl rumbling in her throat. The demoness' pride rebels against this violation of her authority—but logic tells her that resistance here would only end badly for all involved. For now, she forces herself to remain still, though every instinct screams at her to lash out. As Abby pulls the small pouch from her belt, Jeane feels a jolt of fear. It contains nothing useful—just some dried herbs and a few small stones that mean nothing to anyone but her. The woman’s eyes narrow as she examines the contents, then tosses them aside with a dismissive flick of her wrist.

Jeane’s stomach twists with relief when the pouch is discarded so easily. But the sensation is short-lived as the woman’s attention snaps back to her, voice dripping with mockery. “Is that all? No hidden daggers or magical trinkets?” The demoness feels her cheeks flush with anger and shame at being found so... unprepared. “I told you already—we were just passing through,” she manages, her voice tight with barely controlled rage.

Across the chamber, Abby shrinks back against the wall, her wide brown eyes fixed on Jeane. The woman’s grip on her shoulder remains firm, a constant reminder of their precarious situation. The sound of grinding stone echoes through the room again, louder this time. Both women freeze, their heads turning instinctively towards the source of the noise.