Twyla immediately leaped up onto the chair that had been left free, kneading the cushion for a few moments before pacing three circles and then curling up in the center, purring happily.
Ilia managed to muster up a weak smile from her own seat, and chuckled quietly to herself. "Little princess," she teased the hellcat quietly.
"Mrrow! Mow-wow-wow."
Varyyn smiled slightly and lifted his cups to his lips, breathing in the steam of the drink before he took a sip. "Well now. Are you sure we are alone here, Theodore?" he asked after a moment, eyes flicking from Lola to the door pointedly.
Ilia leaned back in her chair, letting her eyes close. God, she was just so tired...
"Lottie, darling, you must stay awake."
She flinched as her father's voice all but snapped out at her, jerking her from the edge of sleep. "Papa," she complained, rubbing at her eyes. When she met his gaze however, she felt a tiny shiver of fear run down her spine at the intense concern on his face.
"Please," he muttered. "Just stay awake. Just a little longer."