After Malin left, Duke Cedric strode to the couch, settling himself with an air of ownership. He crossed one leg over the other, fingers drumming lazily on the armrest.
"How do you propose we fish out the rebels?" His tone was casual, but his yellow eyes gleamed with sharp intent.
Rhaegal approached the opposite seat, lowering himself with unhurried grace. "Veylor isn't a place we can navigate blindly. Every smile hides a dagger here. We can't trust anyone yet."
Cedric leaned forward, uncrossing his legs. "I have acquaintances here, werewolves and men alike. Loyal to me. Perhaps they'll make this simpler."
Rhaegal's crimson gaze cut to him, cold and appraising. "Acquaintances? Can they be trusted?.
Cedric rolled his eyes. "Certainly, They know where their loyalties lie."
