Jae sat across from Lord Shane, the advisor's sharp gaze holding him still even as the quill in his hand danced across parchment. The smell of old ink and wax candles filled the cramped study, blending with the faint mustiness of paper that had sat untouched for too long.
The stacks of documents and scrolls that hemmed them in gave the impression of a man half-buried alive in duty, yet Shane's voice carried a weight that made it clear he was not lost in the papers but commanding them.
"You want answers about the attacks," Shane said, finally setting his quill aside. "So do I. I have suspicions, yes, and threads I would rather tug at with both hands, but in this palace, action is rarely as simple as intent."
His tone shifted, the words clipped but deliberate. "The king's directives bind me. Without confirmation, I cannot act openly, nor can I risk moving against shadows that might turn out to be illusions. The danger of being wrong is greater than the danger of waiting."
