POV: Fabian
"You're certain they saw her clearly," I said.
Rourke stood on the other side of my desk, still travel-dusted and smug. The job had gone exactly to plan.
"Clearly enough to talk about it for the rest of their lives, my lord. Isn't that the point?"
"The point was to be seen. Not to be understood." I turned the report over in my hands, though I'd already read it twice. "You let them get a good look at her face."
"Wasn't her face they were looking at." Rourke's mouth twitched. "Wolf's eyes tend to hold a man's attention."
"And whose eyes were they, exactly?"
"Cyra's. We used illusion, just as you asked; it was close enough to the description you gave me: dark hair, small build, servant's clothes." He shrugged.
"It’s close enough that whoever hears the story will fill in th
