"SOMEONE HEARD US," Hartley concluded, standing up to his feet. His palms were slammed against the table as he got up, a frown causing his eyebrows to furrow.
"This is going to be messy," Wyatt said with a sigh, tightening the gloves on his hands. "Should I get Miles, Your Highness?"
"No," answered Hartley. He reached over to his sword that was resting against the table, always at the ready in case he ever needed it. Grabbing it, he secured it to his belt with purpose. "Or do you think I'm not enough to handle it?"
A slow smile curved Wyatt's lips leisurely. "Of course not, Your Highness. I know for a fact that you're fully capable."
"Why are you two not panicking?" Alice asked, alarmed. "After you've just told me that people who are known to have any relation to magic are burned? At the stake? Like death row criminals?!"
