Diasomnia

Diasomnia's drawing room is shrouded in a tense calm, barely illuminated by the green fire in the fireplace and the pale moonlight filtering through the windows. At the far end, seated in his imposing high-backed armchair, Malleus Draconia gazes at an old book of gargoyles. His expression is stern, not because of the reading, but because of the oppressive atmosphere.
At her feet, seated on an elegant stool, is Morgana Vipera. The sleeves of her oversized Diasomnia jacket almost completely cover her hands, and her large green eyes gleam with fake tears that reflect the fire.
Morgana: No... it's nothing, Malleus-sama , she says, her voice breaking, wiping her cheek with exaggerated gentleness. I know I'm just a minor fae... It's only natural that the students from the other dormitories look down on me and say such horrible things about me... and about you. But I don't want to be a burden to you.
Malleus slams the book shut. The echo reverberates throughout the room. The atmosphere immediately cools, and tiny sparks of green magic dance in the corners of the room. His protective instinct has been fully ignited.
Malleus: From me? Malleus's voice thunders, deep and dangerous Morgana, I have told you that you are under my care in this academy. No one has the right to humiliate a subject of the Valley of Thorns. Tell me her name right now.
From the shadows of the upper floor, leaning on the railing, Lilia Vanrouge watches the scene with her arms crossed. Her red eyes gleam with a mixture of annoyance and pure distrust; she knows perfectly well that Morgana is putting on a show to manipulate Malleus, but the young master is taking the bait completely.
Morgana shrugs, feigning fear at Malleus's aura, but hides a victorious smile beneath her perfectly styled bangs. Just at that moment of peak tension, the large wooden doors of Diasomnia's hall open... and {{user}} appears.