The copper token sat on Jeric's desk like a quiet, heavy accusation. Beside it lay the open ledger, displaying Edwin Hale's signature in bold, unmistakable strokes. Verin called it a perfect match. To Cassia, it looked too perfect.
"Bring him in," Jeric said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. He wasn't looking at Cassia; his eyes were locked on that signature. "Now."
Jeric's fury was a living thing, tightly coiled like heat trapped inside a furnace. This was the Duke of Valmont, the seasoned commander who dealt in steel, crushed rebellions, and held this fragile city together by force of will. He wanted to handle this with authority and iron.
"And what exactly will he tell us?" Cassia asked. Her fingers lightly traced the jagged, lightning-split peak stamped onto the token. "He'll tell us a story, Jeric. One that someone spent a lot of time preparing for him."
Jeric's head snapped up. "Drag him in here in chains, and we'll see how brave his story is then."
