The more she asked, the more the people in the room began to feel that the conversation was… odd.
Most of them did not fully understand where she was leading this. To them, the questions sounded separate, innocent, almost curious.
But the messenger understood.
And that was enough to make a faint coldness gather at the base of his spine.
This woman knew something.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
The worst part was that she never sounded like she was accusing him directly. She sounded like a woman lazily turning over stones, as if she had all day and no real urgency.
That made it harder to defend against.
Because how did one react strongly to gentle curiosity without exposing oneself?
The messenger kept answering. Carefully. Politely. Lying where needed.
Still, a few truths slipped around the edges because he had to keep the conversation believable.
As Isabella listened, her certainty deepened.
This was not one city's business.
No.
The smell of it was too large.
