"You can't be serious."
Arthur looked up from the letter, his voice low.
"…You're actually doing this?"
Cael met his eyes without looking away.
"Yes."
For a second, Arthur just stared at him.
Then he laughed once.
A dry, humorless sound.
"So after everything we've done…" He gestured toward the window, toward the fortress behind them, toward the memory of Veris lying dead in the snow. "After nearly dying. After exposing Vak. After rescuing those elves."
He took a step forward.
"Your answer is to hand me over?"
"You misunderstand."
"No." Arthur's voice sharpened. "I understand perfectly."
His breathing grew heavier.
"What am I supposed to be in all of this?" he demanded. "A pawn? Some convenient sacrifice?"
His eyes locked onto Cael.
"You guys sent me here. To investigate a shop and fortress full of murderers. You let me risk my life. Then the moment the job's done…" He held up the letter. "…I'm the one being thrown under the bus?"
