Reynold walked into the small, dimly lit room where the five men assigned to protect Zephany were already seated.
The atmosphere was thick with tension as they looked up at him, their commanding officer, the one who had entrusted them with a simple yet crucial task. Reynold's jaw was tight, his thoughts still tangled in the events that had unfolded at the Grand Hall just a few nights ago.
One of the men, a tall figure with sharp features and dark eyes, cleared his throat and spoke first.
"We're sorry, sir. We failed her. We underestimated her."
Reynold's brows drew together, irritation flashing in his eyes.
"Underestimated her? What happened?"
The five men exchanged uneasy glances, visibly reluctant to speak. Finally, the one in charge took a deep breath and began.
"She's not what we thought she was," he said, his voice low but firm. "We were told to protect her, to watch her back. But…"
Reynold's chest tightened. "But what?"
