Rowan's POV
The flickering candlelight cast shadows across Rowan's sharp features as he leaned back in his leather chair, fingers drumming a steady rhythm against the mahogany desk. His dark eyes studied Casper with calculated intensity, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire.
"Sir, tonight's assault was distinctly different from previous encounters," Casper reported, his voice steady despite the exhaustion evident in his posture. "The intelligence we provided about Lord Hardy's location proved remarkably effective. Our casualties were minimal, and more importantly, we suffered no fatalities."
Rowan's expression remained unreadable as he processed the information. His fingers ceased their rhythmic tapping, and he allowed the quiet to linger for several heartbeats before responding. The weight of his scrutiny seemed to press against the room's occupants.
"What's the status of the cave?" Rowan's voice cut through the stillness with surgical precision.
