"I mean gone, vanished, poof!" Zafron's hands gesticulated wildly. "The house is a mess, the door's off its hinges, and they're nowhere to be found."
"Okay, okay, calm down," Cassandra soothed, placing a hand on his arm. "We'll figure this out. But first, we need to get you out of here before Uncle Harold comes back and starts asking more questions."
"Right, because sneaking around isn't suspicious at all," Zafron muttered.
"Less suspicious than you looking like you've run here from the other side of Drakoria," Cassandra retorted.
'If only she knew,' Zafron thought wryly.
"Come on," Cassandra tugged at his sleeve. "We'll go to my private study. We can talk there without interruption."
They reached Cassandra's study, slipping inside and closing the door quietly behind them. As soon as they were alone, Cassandra's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by concern.
"Okay, Zafron. Tell me everything."
