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Horace sat in his study, the air heavy with formality. Across from him were two judges—Head Judge Clinton, whose usually steady demeanor was visibly unsettled, and Judge Gabriel, seated stiffly beside him. Silence stretched between them until Clinton finally broke it.
"Why on earth did you not tell me earlier, Your Highness?" His tone was calm, but disappointment threaded through every word. "Don't you trust me?"
Horace's brows lifted as he shrugged lightly. "It isn't that I don't trust you. I don't trust Derek. And it was obvious that you trusted him, so I felt it was best not to say anything yet."
Clinton straightened. "Derek and I are close, yes—but that does not make me blind. I am not Head Judge for nothing. I may not know all his plans, but I know what he's after." His eyes hardened. "Why would I hand him the most important information in existence? Oh, Your Highness—just how foolish do you think I am?"
"I merely took precautions," Horace replied evenly.
