The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic

Kael sneezed, rubbing his nose. "Is someone talking behind my back?"

"Maybe you caught a cold," Lyria muttered, handing him a towel.

"Could be." Kael shrugged, wiping his face.

The others glanced at him who talked nonchalantly, then at Cedric, who was tied down and barely holding himself together.

Kael didn’t bother asking questions—he just beat him until the bastard pissed his pants twice. Kael found himself wondering where the hell he kept getting all that water from.

Handel stepped forward, nudging Cedric and pulling the rag from his mouth. "Talk. Why did you do this?" His voice was calm, measured.

"If you want to live, start speaking before that demon gets impatient," Vic added with a smirk.

Kael rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, I’m not that bad."

No one said a word.

Cedric gasped for air, his whole body shaking. "I did it... because that old man wanted to pass everything to Stephen."

Kael raised a brow. "Stephen?"