"Someone from the Council is with us," another whispered. "High-ranking. We were told they'd delay the prince."
The air grew colder in the cell. Evelisse didn't move, but her tone dropped, sharp as a dagger. "Council?" she echoed. "Since when do I share plans with the Council?"
Both men stiffened.
"The messenger said it was all part of the grander design," one muttered. "We thought it was from... you, sir. Through... other channels."
Evelisse folded her arms under the cloak. 'They really believe I'm this Arkrael guy... and now someone's hijacked his—my—identity?'
"And what exactly did this messenger say?" she pressed.
The shorter man swallowed. "They wore Council robes. Full mask. Voice was distorted. They came to us three days ago. Said the plan had changed. That we weren't to make the demand directly anymore."
