Meanwhile, Fenric strode through the corridors of the manor, his face set in stone but his thoughts a storm. The revelation gnawed at him.
The Shadow Blades… Fourth Prince's dogs.
His hand brushed his sleeve, where faint traces of his own blood still lingered. Aria's faint breathing from the adjacent chamber gave him a moment's grounding. He glanced toward her door, watching the soft spill of candlelight.
They wanted me dead… and they fed Laxin a lie to make him their weapon. Fourth Prince… how far are you willing to go?
Fenric's expression darkened, a cruel smile tugging at the edges of his lips.
"Very well. Play all the games you want. In the end, I will be the one who wins," he muttered as he returned to his office. Sitting at his desk, he dipped his quill in ink and began writing a letter bound for the capital.
Not long after, the door creaked open.
