One Less Problem
Leon's tone never wavered. "Another time, Duke Edric. I have a meeting to go to."
There—a slight twitch at the corner of Edric's mouth. Almost imperceptible. A crack in his flawlessly chiseled mask. But it was gone as fast as it appeared.
"My apologies if I overstepped," Edric replied with smooth ease. Still, Leon caught it—the slightest change in tone. Something unspoken underneath the words.
Leon narrowed his gaze. What was Edric up to? Why now, of all moments, when Nova was expecting him?
He should have left. And yet the understated shift in Edric's tone, the gravity behind his tone, kept him rooted.
Leon leaned forward. "What is it, Edric?"
He tried to go, to turn away. But Edric stepped closer, tone falling to a deeper, more somber level.
But, before you leave," he told him softly, "there is one thing. I need your assistance."
Leon's face turned cold. "Assistance?
