"Greetings to the esteemed owner of Isotel."
The voice that broke the silence had a peculiar warmth, but there was something in its undertone that felt too polished, too deliberate.
Veralis did not have a good feeling about this person.
Cashim leaned back in his chair, his grin widening.
"Oh, don't be so cautious," he said, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "Please, sit comfortably. I'm here for a friendly talk, nothing more.
Veralis remained standing for a heartbeat longer, the air between them thick with unspoken tension before he finally took his seat again.
"To what sort of pleasantries are you hoping for, sire?"
Veralis inquired, his voice guarded, but his posture relaxed.
Cashim tilted his head slightly, his grin never faltering. "I've already told you, haven't I?? No need to be so uptight. You're not at a council meeting. I'm simply trying to understand you better."
Veralis snickered in his mask.
As if.
Cashim continued, "And of course, I know you're not Sire Akan, right? Should I say…the eldest son of Duke Garth? Young lord Veralis?"
Veralis just shrugged. "Whatever you believe."
"Hm, quite the stoic one, aren't you?" Cashim's voice almost turned affectionate, and Veralis seemed to be irked by it.
"Apologies for truly wanting to meet you. You see, you are a curious matter. Who would've guessed that someone from that duchy would want to band with the royal family directly? Truly unexpected, don't you think?"
The air in the room shifted, becoming heavier. Veralis' fingers tightened ever so slightly around the armrest of his chair, the weight of the conversation pressing in on him.
"You were hoping to avoid all this, weren't you?" Cashim teased, leaning forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I was enjoying myself with the thought of teasing you further, but alas, my curiosity is far too insatiable. Tell me, young heir, what's the real story here? I won't ask without a price."
Veralis sighed.
Since this person already knows who he is, why bother with the mask? He seems truly close with Sire Akan.
He removed his mask. "You should remove yours too. After all, I can ask Sire Akan about it."
The man in front of him nodded.
"Of course, and for showing proper courtesy to the one who deserves it."
Seeing the person in front of him deliberately removing his mask until he saw that face, Veralis scowled. "He didn't tell me it was you, not worth noting, I presume."
Cashim chuckled, "It seems Sire Akan knows we'll have a moment like this."
"What do you mean?" Veralis narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
Cashim leaned forward. "You see, we're in a bit of a play here, and you've got your play, just like me."
Veralis didn't say anything at first. A silent battle raged in his mind as he wrestled with the question, unsure whether to entertain this man's whims.
Cashim's eyes twinkled as he prodded further. "Would it make a difference if I told you that Akan and I were comrades before? We fought side by side in the last war, you know."
"Neither."
He said simply.
"Neither?" Cashim laughed, the sound rich and dark. "Now that's too vague, Sire Veralis. Tell me, if I could get you what you want before Akan does…would that be enough of a reason for you to let me know?"
The slightest of smirks tugged at the corner of Veralis's lips. "That depends on your…vast knowledge."
Cashim's grin spread further, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Oh, I do love a challenge. So, enlighten me, young lord. What's the riddle?"
Look at this guy; he is such an arrogant person!
"Thunder's teeth."
"Thunder's teeth?" Cashim echoed, his brows furrowing as if the phrase were an enigma to him. "Where have I heard that before?"
"Yes, thunder's teeth," Veralis repeated, his gaze unyielding as he studied Cashim's face, then sighed. "It seems more complicated on your end than I imagined."
Meaning, as his 'comrade,' you don't know.
Cashim's expression twisted, a fleeting flash of recognition dancing across his face. "Intriguing, indeed. I've heard of it. But the place it falls…is considered an accursed land. And no one, not a soul, has ever truly seen it. Does it even exist?"
Veralis' gaze faltered for just a fraction of a moment, though his outward composure remained perfect. His thoughts churned in the back of his mind like a storm he couldn't weather.
Hopeless.
So it was hopeless… He was tricked and utterly tricked into becoming their slave. What's the use of staying? Veralis' head throbbed.
Cashim noticed the shift, his eyes narrowing, but he said nothing. There was a sharpness in the air, a crackling tension that made the room feel smaller. He didn't need words to know that something was off.
"There's a reason you'd bring it up, isn't there?" Cashim mused aloud, as though speaking to himself. "This wasn't something Akan mentioned. No…it came from somewhere else, didn't it? His Majesty perhaps?"
Veralis tried to control his expression as stoic as he could. "No, it's just… indeed. It is something impossible. Something more potent than what His Majesty is aiming for, the Nan Herb. Thunder's teeth…it seems to be a myth."
Veralis just closed his mouth. But what is this Nan Herb, anyway?
He had never heard of it from either Akan or the Butler. Well, it was a passing thought from the physician before, when he grew frustrated with the lady.
Cashim smirked, watching the reaction closely. "Ah, was it not? Tell me, is there something about this Nan Herb that's causing trouble in the royal court? Perhaps His Majesty's mind is…losing its edge?"
"Huh?"
A sick realization struck Veralis.
No, was he meant to hear this? How…appalling.
That was why Akan had insisted he watch the nobles, the whispers, the rumors. But it was more than that. Akan wanted him to secure more of the Nan Herb, a tincture shrouded in secrecy and doubt.
His mind raced. No, no, no! The web was tightening around him.
"Oh, my mouth!" Cashim exclaimed with mock surprise. "Apologies, I thought you were already aware of this little detail."
The smile never left his face.
Something was unsettling about how casual he seemed, as if nothing truly surprised him anymore.
"You see, the Nan Herb," Cashim continued, leaning back lazily like a cat, "is not something to be trifled with. But you must know that, right?"
Veralis stiffened.
No, not entirely.
"This is of no concern to you, sire."
He uttered in distaste.
Cashim didn't respond immediately. Instead, he slowly produced a handkerchief from his sleeve, unfolding it delicately as if it were the most precious treasure he had ever held, and then showed it to Veralis. The moonlight caught the delicate embroidery on its edge: a full moon, faint and serene, like the night sky.
Veralis' heart skipped. He had thought Cashim would stop acting so fiercely now that he had shown him something he disliked the most. He knew that symbol. That was the Empress Dowager's mark. He would know it anywhere.
"So you recognize it!" Cashim said, his voice light with amusement as he saw that slight crack in his expression. Excellent! He wanted to pat his shoulder for catching that change of emotion in Veralis' face.
This trip was truly worth it! Showing himself was not in vain!
Veralis forced his expression to remain impassive, but inside, everything screamed in alarm. The Dowager? What was she doing here? Was she in cahoots with Cashim? To know what? What information?
If the person in front of him is asking for the princess' identity, it means he doesn't yet know who he's talking to—that he's in disguise. The princess was clearly in disguise when she was scheming with him.
"I don't. It just looks like my sister's, but it isn't."
Sorry, sister.
"Such a shame," Cashim said a bit sadly before his voice suddenly turned serious. "If only you had more to offer, I could've extended some privileges your way."
Privilege my way? Hah! Don't make me laugh. Veralis internally sneered, yet he nodded. "A shame indeed."
"Then it seems I'll have to take my leave for now. It was a pleasure meeting you, young heir."
Please, there is no need to refer to me, young heir; I am not one. Thank you for your hospitality."
"Pleasure is all mine." Cashim smiled. "Then I'll take my leave first; I'll invite you again if you don't mind."
"Please."
With that, Cashim left.
Veralis watched as he left. "This troublesome person. It seems he is not truly someone that Sire Akan can trust to tell about her."
Someone, he felt happy knowing that some secrets are only known to those within the palace.
Hah, serves him right for being arrogant!
On the other hand, the moment Cashim left the chamber, he called out to his confidant.
A tall man with an expression of quiet intensity stepped up to him.
"How did it go, sire?" the man asked, his voice low.
Cashim smiled. "He was lying."
"Then we don't have any more chances to look, sire?"
Cashim shook his head. "No, he wasn't lying entirely. There's truth in his deception that I found quite peculiar and worth seeing further."
Still, he'll find a glimpse of that lie.
"Then...what is your order, sire?"