The first lesson an assassin learns is control. Not killing. Not footwork. Not poisons.
Control.
Your body must not react before your mind has decided what mask to wear.
Words were easy. The body was the real challenge. Ronan controlled his words. He failed to control his body, his expressions, his mannerisms. That made him easy to predict, and it made it much easier to tell when he was lying.
Kade narrowed his eyes. The tip of his sword rose an inch, pointed more directly at Ronan's chest.
"Where is it?"
"Where is what? I told you, I haven't found anything."
Ronan's confusion was almost convincing.
Kade let his voice turn colder. "Do you truly think I can't tell you're lying?"
His group reacted to the shift, their formation tightening around Ronan. The threat was no longer implied.
"This is your last chance," Kade said. "Tell us where the point is, or we eliminate you here."
For a moment, Ronan said nothing. The air grew heavy, and his followers moved in slowly.
