"Elion," Kaelith said lowly, his voice tight with restrained anger.
"What?" Elion shot back, unfazed. "He's not a knight. He's not nobility. He's not one of us. If he dies, we mourn for a day, then move on."
"That's enough," Lysaro said.
"No," Elion said, folding his arms. "It's not. We're in enemy territory. If this food is poisoned, do you really want the Crown Prince to be the one who finds out the hard way? It's logic, Kaelith."
Kaelith was about to speak further when a quiet voice broke through.
"I'll eat it."
Hale's words fell like a quiet thunderclap.
He stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Sir, Elion is right. I'm the lowest among us. If someone should take the risk, it should be me."
Kaelith turned to him, eyes wide. "Hale, no."
Hale gave a small, subtle smile. "Your Highness, it's alright."
