Around a day later, Lyall arrived at my quarters with the fake crest carefully wrapped in cloth. I took it from him without hesitation, my fingers unfurling the fabric slowly. My eyes skimmed over the insignia, scrutinizing every detail with the kind of precision that only comes with familiarity.
"It's as you ordered it to be," Lyall said, his voice betraying a hint of caution as he observed me carefully.
I nodded, my lips curling into a small but satisfied smile. "Yes, it is. Good work." The words left my mouth with a cool confidence, but there was something about the way I said them that made Lyall pause.
He stared at me for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if reading between the lines of my expression. I caught the slight hesitation in his gaze and raised an eyebrow, curious.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my tone light, but with a trace of suspicion.
