Lord Niketas narrowed his eyes as he studied the young man before him, his mind already sifting through the names and allegiances of the lesser houses. Derathio. A small house, sworn to Megioduroli. Not particularly powerful, nor particularly influential, yet still noble by all rights.
Recognition flickered across his face, and he turned slightly, beckoning one of his servants closer. Leaning in, he murmured a few quiet words, his voice too low for the others to hear. The servant bowed in understanding and swiftly exited the tent, disappearing into the night.
Satisfied, Niketas turned his attention back to the bound envoy, his expression softening just enough to feign cordiality. He motioned to the guards.
"Cut his bonds."