One by one, they exited the drawing room once they were ready to head back home, with Ragnar being the last to leave. He followed behind at a measured pace, his long strides unhurried. Just as he was about to cross over the threshold, a hand shot out and clasped his arm, halting him in place.
He turned swiftly, only to find that the fingers belonged to Lady Maelis. Her expression had changed dramatically since the last time he looked at her. Gone was the warmth and polite composure she had displayed minutes earlier. In its place was a look that teetered between caution and tightly leashed agitation.
When she spoke, her voice was low barely above a whisper as if she feared being overheard.
"Yannick Tavish was seen heading toward the eastern borders just yesterday," she said, her tone clipped. "I don't trust that family."
Neither did he.
