Arin leaned on the table, tracing a gloved finger along the marked borders. "We should send discreet scouts, men who know how to move unseen. If Varennes is behind this, they'll leave traces. Supply wagons. Dead animals. Something."
Alaric nodded once. "Already thought of it. Marcus and Carlden are assembling a unit now. They move before dawn."
Arin smirked faintly. "You never wait for orders, do you?"
"I stopped waiting when I realized how slow orders can cost lives."
That drew a quiet chuckle from the Emperor. "You haven't changed."
"Neither have you," Alaric replied dryly. "Still cleaning up my messes."
"Your messes keep Eldoria alive," Arin said simply, and the unspoken respect between them needed no further words.
At last, Alaric turned to him. "Arin. If this plague spreads… we'll have to close the capital. No travel in or out. Not even for the nobles."
Arin frowned. "That will cause panic."
