"We've exhausted what the kingdom's finest can offer. The capital would take weeks to respond. The Saint of Helios would take months." The Marquis of Mangort's voice was low but edged with iron. "My wife doesn't have that time."
Count Marek stepped closer, his eyes dark with concern. "So you're planning to go to that forest yourself? To find that woman?"
"I think we have no choice but to do it."
"You're insane," Marek said, voice taut with disbelief. "You're a Marquis. If word spreads that you consorted with a witch, even for a cure, it will destroy your name. The Church will call it heresy. The nobles will call it desperation. Even your allies won't defend you. And that forest—no complete map exists. No one truly knows what lies within. What if something happens to you?"
The Marquis turned, meeting his brother's gaze. "Then tell me—what do you propose?"
Marek hesitated, then said, "I just got word. The Guildmaster of the Adventurer's Guild has escaped from Ginip."
