They both spoke at once.
“You first.”
Vesena groaned. “We’re never going to get anywhere like this.”
Cedric shrugged, unrepentant. “It’s been working for me so far.”
He held still while the dagger lowered. Vesena stepped back half a pace, still close enough that he could smell the oil on her blade.
The chapel was awful. But if he was being honest, it was a relief seeing her face instead of whatever other nightmare he’d half-imagined might be waiting. Even if she’d nearly slit his throat.
“I saw someone suspicious come in here,” she said, voice low, clipped. “Didn’t know who. Thought I’d follow.” She tilted her chin slightly, eyes narrowing. “Which makes this rather awkward, because apparently that someone was you.”
Awkward, indeed. He scratched the back of his neck, trying for a sheepish look. “In my defense, I didn’t sneak. I walked in like a concerned citizen.”
That earned him a stare sharp enough to skin him. “Were you following someone?”
He glanced toward the altar—chains glinting faintly in the dim light—and briefly asked Orvath, patron saint of misery, for patience. Then he sighed. “Yes. Ravik. On Alaric’s orders.”
Her brows lifted. “You’re joking.”
He smirked faintly. “I’m really not.”
She studied him for a beat, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Did Ravik come in here before you?”
He shook his head. “No. He talked to someone, nothing I could catch from where I was. Then they split. Ravik went toward his office. The other one—hooded, female, I think—walked off with a scroll tucked under her arm.” He shrugged. “Figured she looked more interesting.”
“Women usually do,” Vesena muttered.
Cedric gave her a look. “I followed her. She came in here and didn’t come out for a long time. I thought maybe she slipped out through another exit, but the chapel only has one. So I came in.”
“And found nothing,” she guessed.
He nodded. “Nothing. No sign of her. I started checking corners, and then I heard the door creak. So I ducked behind a pillar. When I saw it was you, I thought I’d say hello.”
He crossed his arms, arching a brow. “Then you nearly opened my throat.”
Her lashes fluttered. “You didn’t say hello.”
That dragged a laugh out of him, rougher than intended. “Fair.”
The sound died quickly. A creak sounded somewhere behind them; both turned instinctively toward the door before trading the ghost of a smile.
Then Vesena asked the obvious. “Why is Alaric having Ravik followed?”
Cedric exhaled, long and low. The kind of sigh that carried more weight than he wanted to admit. Of course he told her everything about Kelvar’s Cross.
Vesena’s mouth tightened slightly as she absorbed it. She didn’t spook easy, but she didn’t dismiss it either.
“Alaric also has some kind of interest in the High Preceptor but I think it’s his excuse to chase his trivia.” He studied her a little more carefully now. “What about you?”
Her eyes flicked, just briefly, the way people did when they were deciding how much truth to give. “The princess didn’t ask me to do anything,” she said at last. “Not directly. She just—looked like someone holding too many questions and not enough hands.”
Cedric leaned back against the nearest pillar, arms still crossed. He let out a low whistle, humorless. “That sounds about right.”
His smirk faded for a beat, replaced by a quieter, heavier expression. Then he met her gaze again, his words low.
“Alright. So, what now?”
