The King's study door closed, and all three mages exhaled in unison, their shoulders slumping as if a heavy iron beam had just been lifted off their backs.
Cassius pulled out a handkerchief, hastily wiping the cold bead of sweat trickling down his temple. The younger mage who had dared to question Zarius's sanity looked ready to collapse onto the polished marble floor.
"You almost got us executed, you fool," Cassius hissed under his breath, carefully slipping the wrapped red stone deep into his inner coat pocket. "Suggesting the Northern Duke is paranoid in front of the King? Have you lost your mind?"
"I was only trying to offer an alternative explanation, Master Cassius," the younger man whispered back, his voice still shaking. "The stone is clean. We checked it ourself! If there's nothing wrong with the magic, what else could it be?"
