Four days ago, at the Duke's office was dark, Duke Caulem stared at Leo, his voice rough with disbelief. "Why do you want Varion Keech at the banquet? Those vile bastards don't deserve to step foot in my house."
With calm but fierce crimson eyes, Leo reclined in his chair. "I hate them just as much as you do, I assure you. However, I realized something was amiss when I saved Vivien. The place housed hundreds of people—far too many to mention."
The Duke's brow furrowed, his grip tightening on his chair. "Slaves, you mean?"
With a steady voice, Leo shook his head. "No. Slaves are not the only ones. It's almost impossible to get that many people together in one location without anyone noticing. Then Lysa described to us how she was snatched, not purchased. It's definitely mass human trafficking."
"Trafficking?" The Duke's face darkened as he comprehended, and his voice was low. "Powerful allies—nobles, perhaps even houses—would be necessary for that kind of operation."
