Raze pushed through the door of their room, his face still damp from scrubbing at the fountain. His team turned as one, concern etched across their features.
"What happened?" Mariabel demanded, flames flickering instinctively around her fingers. "Did they hurt you? Threaten you?"
"Sit down." Raze moved to the table, gestured for them to gather. "All of you. We need to talk."
They exchanged glances but complied, pulling chairs close while Raze remained standing. His mind was still organizing everything, sorting facts from emotions, planning from panic.
"Lord Venn," he began carefully, "is worse than we thought. The manor is a drug den and brothel combined, people everywhere in various states of consciousness, servants distributing substances like they're refreshments at a party." He paused, watching their expressions shift from concern to disgust. "The corruption isn't hidden, it's celebrated, displayed openly because he believes himself untouchable."
