Daena spat sand out of her mouth as she dragged herself to her feet, glaring at the endless stretch of desert around them. The blazing sun beat down mercilessly, reflecting off the golden dunes and creating an oppressive heat that could bake bread.
Nyssara, looking as poised as ever despite the circumstances, dusted off her midnight robes. Her silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, making her look far too elegant for their current predicament. "Well," she said with a faint smirk, "this is… charming."
"Charming?" Daena snapped, her voice dripping with venom. "We're in the middle of nowhere, teleported by that overgrown infernal banshee masquerading as a sovereign, surrounded by more monsters than I care to count. Charming isn't the word I'd use, Nyssara."
Nyssara arched a perfectly sculpted brow. "I was being diplomatic."