Arthur's eyes narrowed, disbelief flickering across his face. Was she serious? Pulling me aside under the pretense of a private conversation, only to throw accusations and point a fireball at me—was she truly that reckless? That foolish?
His first instinct was suspicion. Was this an assassination attempt? But he dismissed the thought almost immediately. If Alice truly wanted him dead, she wouldn't be this blatant.
He studied her, searching for an answer in her expression. There was no malice, no bloodlust—just sharp, unrelenting scrutiny. She was testing him. Pushing him. Looking for something.
But what?
Before he could piece it together, her voice cut through the air, cold and demanding.
"I'll ask you again." Her fiery gaze bore into him. "Who are you? And what happened to the real Arthur?"
Arthur exhaled slowly, schooling his expression into unreadability.