Ocean received the regular report from the shadow teams he had assigned to both Princes. The information was relayed succinctly, stripped of emotion and speculation—exactly how he preferred it. On the surface, everything was proceeding as expected.
Almost.
The only deviation was the incident involving Carlos.
"He managed to get past the guards?" Lyall repeated, a faint edge of disbelief creeping into his otherwise steady voice.
They were in Ocean's office within the Ryujin mansion, the space illuminated only by a handful of low-burning mana lamps embedded into the walls. Their pale blue orange reflected faintly off the polished mahogany desk that dominated the side of the room.
The hour was late, deep into the night and the mansion itself had long since fallen silent.
Lyall stood before the desk, posture rigid, hands clasped neatly behind his back. Ocean remained seated, one elbow resting on the arm of his chair as he listened.
