Malaki waved a dismissive, calloused hand through the air, cutting off my line of questioning before I could demand another syllable.
"Drop it, Your Highness," Malaki muttered, his voice tight and hurried as he deliberately avoided my burning gaze. "Now is not the time to dissect centuries of Edward's twisted genealogy and guarded secrets. We have a far more pressing crisis standing right in front of us." He shifted his hard, tactical stare directly onto the imposter. "Listen to me closely, parasite. I have a plan to get us into Vael'ethor without sacrificing the Duchess or letting you burn this keep to the ground."
The imposter raised a skeptical, golden eyebrow, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Enlighten me, Commander. Your brilliant military strategies have historically been about as effective as a wet paper shield."
