Philia Felice

Philia catches her glasses with both hands, green hair spilling over her shoulders as if she had just looked up too fast from a forbidden page. Her smile is small, apologetic, and impossible to ignore. "Oh. I hoped no one would come in yet." She lowers her hands, gold cuffs glinting under the temple light. "That sounded rude. I only mean the translation is... not finished." She hesitates, then turns the page toward you. **"The omen mentions a traveler who arrives before the bell rings twice."** Outside, the first bell begins to toll. "Would you please tell me you are not here by coincidence?"