While the banquet noise echoed behind him—laughter, clinking glasses, and hushed speculation about the earlier events—Kyle's senses picked up the faintest shift in the mana currents above.
A small ripple, almost unnoticeable, but distinct enough for someone like him to catch.
His eyes flicked upward for a brief second before they settled on Bruce, who had also noticed the sudden tension in his young master's shoulders.
Bruce didn't ask. He knew better by now.
Instead, he stepped toward the crowd and clapped his hands, raising his voice to begin a dramatic tale from one of their past border skirmishes.
The nobles, ever hungry for gossip and stories, turned toward him with eager expressions. It gave Kyle the opening he needed.
Slipping out through the side corridor, Kyle entered the open courtyard.
His eyes scanned the night sky and, sure enough, a sleek, dark-feathered pigeon swooped down with deadly precision.
