"You… You won't get away with this," he forced out finally, clinging to the only weapon he had left—faith. "The gods—"
"—have been very quiet about you hiring assassins to butcher their anointed Empress in her bath," Heena cut in, voice suddenly flat. "Funny, that."
He flinched as if slapped.
She straightened, leaving the bedside and padding barefoot across the thick carpet to her desk. A stack of folders lay there, neatly tied with red string. She chose one, untied it, and began leafing through pages without hurry.
"Do you know what this is?" she asked.
Raphael said nothing.
Heena turned the first page toward him so he could see. Even upside down, the bold heading was unmistakable:
Report: Crimson Veil Contract — Client Chain Analysis.
His heart lurched.
