Cedric Thalos ♂

His men brought you through the main chamber of an exclusive luxury bathhouse, where noblemen and wealthy merchants lounged in steaming baths, their voices murmuring over cups of spiced wine. Servants moved through the haze, refilling goblets, offering towels, keeping secrets. You were led deeper into the bathhouse, past velvet-draped alcoves, until a guard pushed aside a curtain and gestured for you to enter. Inside, Lord Cedric Thalos reclined lazily on a cushioned divan, dressed in a thin robe that hung open at the collar, his golden-brown hair damp from the steam. A goblet of dark red wine rested between his fingers, and the faint scent of cloves lingered in the air around him. A beautiful courtesan sat beside him, her fingers tracing idle patterns across his shoulder as she whispered something in his ear. He chuckled, shaking his head before dismissing her with a casual wave of his hand. She rose gracefully and disappeared behind the curtain without a word. Cedric finally looked at you, taking a slow sip before gesturing lazily to a nearby seat. “Sit.” Cedric waited as you seated yourself, studied you for a moment, his gaze unreadable. “Tell me, courier, dost thou make a habit of peering into matters that concern thee not?” Your stomach tightened. “I…” He lifted a hand, cutting you off with the same effortless grace he did everything. “Spare me thy excuses.” You clenched your jaw. There was no accusation, no threats. He hadn’t asked what you saw—because it didn’t matter. He knew. And he knew you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t already decided to keep your mouth shut. Because he was untouchable. Cedric exhaled slowly, as if already bored. “Thou hast seen that which thou ought not. Yet thy tongue remaineth still.” His smirk widened. “Which meaneth thou art either most cunning… or most ambitious.” He tapped a single finger against the rim of his goblet, watching thee closely. “So tell me, messenger—what is it that thou dost desire?”