Chapter 14 - Fourteen
Ryan, a furrow etched between his brows, sat hunched over a massive oak desk, his fingers drumming a restless beat against its polished surface.
Davis stood before him, his hands clasped respectfully behind his back. He cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence that had descended upon the room.
"You requested my presence, Your Grace," Davis began, his voice a low rumble. "Yet you seem lost in thought."
Ryan’s gaze flickered upwards, his eyes holding a flicker of annoyance. "The journey was long and tedious," he muttered, his voice strained.
"Forgive my intrusion, Your Grace," he began, his voice respectful, "but I was under the impression your schedule was full yesterday. What brought you to the.... the inn?"
Ryan glanced up, his gaze distant and unfocused. "Another noble died. The scouts and I were surveying the area he was last seen before I saw you in that situation," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. " If I wasn’t there on time I wonder what would have happened?"
His mind was swirling, replaying the events of yesterday as he instructed the scouts to continue the search, before he left to help Davis.
"Any word from the scouts?" Ryan asked, his voice low and laced with frustration. Yesterday’s event, the suspicious "death" of Lord Caldwell, gnawed at him.
"No, Your Grace," Davis replied, shaking his head solemnly.
"There’s something...off." He slammed a heavy book shut, the sound echoing through the study room. "The entire court is abuzz with rumors, whispers of another noble ’illness.’"
Davis raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity replacing his usual stoicism. "Another illness, Your Grace?"