Chapter 18: Guildmaster
The office hit him like a punch. Everything screamed money—gold-trimmed walls, a huge window showing off Arclight's skyline, a carpet so soft he felt bad stepping on it with his dirty boots. Shelves lined with books and weird glowing trophies watched him as he shuffled in.
Behind a massive desk sat the Guildmaster. A woman. Petite, smaller than he'd expected, but beautiful—maybe even more than Juna. Her hair was jet-black, cut short and sharp, framing a face that could've been carved from marble.
Her eyes, bright green, locked onto him, and he froze. She wore a sleek outfit—dark red, tailored perfect, with gold stitching that matched the room. Expensive didn't even cover it.
"Fin Carver," she said, voice calm but firm. "Sit."
He nodded fast, dropping into the chair across from her. It was too big, too cushy, and he felt like a kid playing pretend.
'Don't screw this up, Fin. Don't screw this up.'
The Guildmaster leaned back in her chair, those sharp green eyes studying him like he was a puzzle she hadn't figured out yet. "How are you feeling, Fin?" she asked, her voice smooth and steady.
Fin shifted in the chair, his hands fidgeting in his lap. "Uh, good, I guess? Like, not dead, so that's a win, right?" He tried a grin, hoping to lighten the mood.
Her face didn't move. No smile, no frown—just a blank stare that made him feel like an idiot. His grin dropped fast, and he cleared his throat, looking at his boots.
'Tough crowd.'
She didn't comment on his dumb joke.