Nesroth's eyes widened. "But that would—"
"It's better than having this ripped from our hands," she cut in, firm.
"What we suspect the Gor'Mekhai possess must never be known to the world."
Nesroth nodded, face grave. He, more than most, understood its significance.
If word ever spread about what they'd discovered… forget the Sanguine clan, even the other grand clans would descend. It could very well spark a war.
"What about the Warden, Madam?" Nesroth asked.
The Warden was in charge of all the Blood Guardians in Sylvastein. He was a noble man by reputation, which was why he'd been selected in the first place.
Nesroth had no idea how Beatrix had kept him in check this long, but an operation of this scale wouldn't go unnoticed by him for much longer.
"I'll handle him," Beatrix said simply. Then her gaze flicked back to Nesroth.
"I'm running low on ingredients. Bring more of those savages to me."
"As you wish, Madam Beatrix."
"You're dismissed."
