Alora gently set the quill pen down on the polished mahogany desk, her fingers lingering on the feathered stem.
"Why would Rubin deceive us about Dylan?" she inquired, her voice barely above a whisper. The encounter with Rubin that morning had left her unsettled, her thoughts scattered, making it difficult for her to focus on her royal duties.
Magnus, engrossed in a parchment, paused at her question. He carefully placed the document on the table, his eyes meeting hers.
"Rubin must be scheming something vicious," he responded, his voice steady yet laced with a hint of caution. His fingers intertwined, resting on the table.
"How are you going to stop him then?" Alora inquired.
"I may have to kill him," Magnus replied with a menace.
Alora felt a shiver of unease at his words, but she held her tongue, not voicing her approval. She looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion and hurt.
