Faye's POV
When I placed the map in Hardy's hands, I anticipated immediate action. I thought he would scrutinize every detail, searching for clues about whatever secret my father had concealed from the King. Instead, he strolled into my chamber with maddening composure, as though we had all the time in the world.
Hardy settled beside my bed with infuriating calmness, his attention split between the parchment containing traces of the dark plate and the morning light streaming through the windows. His lack of urgency baffled me. Perhaps I had never mastered the art of reading men like him, those who never revealed their true thoughts behind carefully constructed facades. Or maybe my inexperience left me blind to the calculations running through his mind.
