Noise and chaos cascades across the room. Phil does not flinch. Phil looks, for all purposes, utterly unsurprised; this is the first time he’s been up at the table during all this, and he has none of the grace he earns from having done this no less than a hundred times, but there’s no surprise, and in fact he seems to find his footing in the rhythm of it.

Cassandra’s approach is startling though, but only for a shred of a second; at more or less the same time Phil feints towards the Lord Briarwood before he swings for the Lady. (It’s become so easy to die.)