The sound of Marcus’s boots against the stone floor echoed through the chamber, each step deliberate and weighted with intent. I stood near the window, gazing out at the castle grounds as the late afternoon sun bathed the towers in golden light. The beauty of it was lost on me. My mind was elsewhere, tangled in the conversation that was to come.
“Mirabella,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “We need to talk.”
I didn’t turn to face him. “About Alden?”
“Yes.” His tone was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. “The man is a viper, and we cannot afford to let him linger in silence any longer. He knows something—he must. I want you to force it out of him.”
I turned then, narrowing my eyes at him. “Force it out of him? How do you suggest I do that, Marcus? Shall I play the role
