Count Corvane knew that face.
The knowledge was written all over him, and every soul in the torchlit courtyard could read it.
Stormlord took the case from the old man's hands.
"NO!" The word tore out of the count before wisdom could catch it. "I will not... This is outrageous! Stolen ledgers! Forgeries, peddled by cutthroats and poison-merchants! Your Highness, this... this creature offers you criminal contraband and calls it evidence! No court in Vraven would seat the word of the Vesper Consortium against a peer of the realm!"
Ash drifted between the lanterns. On the wall, one of the count's own men shifted his grip, armor creaking in the hush.
Felicity tilted her head. "The Vesper Consortium?"
"Count." Her voice came out small and clear, and it carried to every corner of the yard. "I get the impression that you knew him on sight."
Corvane's mouth stopped working.
"Care to explain yourself?" The princess took one step forward, gauntlets loose at her sides.
Silence.
