Bayle arrived less than an hour later. He had dark circles under his eyes, but seemed to be energetic in spite of his obvious lack of rest.Without even saying hello, he approached Michael directly. “The rifts here in Stent. Can you confirm for me that they’ve been closed?”Michael closed his eyes, extending his senses and reaching out to sense the locations of all of the rifts, the dread each one created allowing him to pinpoint them.“All, but one that seems to be in Tusinyan territory.”Bayle nodded, drew his notebook from his coat and quickly wrote something in it. His hand was shaking as he put it back.Michael raised a hand and healed him, finding intense strain in his left hand from writing as well as a migraine, exhaustion, and the remnants of an attempt at poisoning. When he was done Bayle was flexing his healed hand.“Thank you,” he said.“Who tried to poison you?”“A local general. I already take a small draught with small doses of poisons daily to build an immunity to them, so it had little effect.”“I’m guessing you already took care of him?” asked Marcus.“No. He’s useful and competent. Better to keep him around for now.”Shreve gestured to the table in the parlour. “Please sit, Bayle. Have some tea.”Bayle hesitated, but he did approach the table and sit down, allowing the diplomat to pour him a cup of tea which he took a long sip of, sitting in silence for nearly a full minute afterward, his eyes closed.He opened his eyes and nodded to Shreve. “Thank you.”Shreve nodded. “So. Where do things stand?”“Stent is under control,” said Bayle. “It was harrowing, especially with things moving faster than we’d intended, but by the time any of the King’s loyalists might’ve acted, he was already dead and we controlled his successor, the capital, and the army. The prince awoke with all of his father’s titles, and the ability to revoke and grant those of the (...)