Day 2
Ilyana sighed as she watched her niece sprawling across the plush bedding.
Lara, ever the picture of nonchalance, was busy picking seeds from a bright fruit, its juice staining her fingers a vibrant purple. "Aren't you going to… prepare yourself?" Ilyana ventured, a hint of annoyance in her tone.
Lara, without even looking up, flicked a seed across the room with a flick of her wrist. It landed with a satisfying plop in a nearby wastebasket. "That's like cramming for an exam that's in thirty minutes," she said lazily,
"So no, Aunt Ilyana, I'm good."
Ilyana raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Is that so, Lara? There are many kinds of people in this world, you know. Those who work hard and may or may not succeed, those who meticulously prepare, the… gifted few who don't need preparation, those who rely on divine intervention, and finally, those who simply accept their fate."