Once in their room, Raziel dumped the bag unceremoniously onto the floor, the heavy thud making the wooden planks creak. Mary immediately went to secure the door, while Layla crouched by the bag, her lips curving into a faint smirk.

"Well," she said, pulling the bag open to reveal the unconscious Knight Captain, "looks like the tables have turned."

The man groaned as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open to find himself bound to a chair in the dimly lit room. His confusion quickly gave way to anger as he realized his predicament.

"You—" he began, but Layla cut him off with a raised hand.

"Quiet," she said, her voice calm but laced with authority. "You're in no position to make demands."

The Captain glared at her but fell silent, his eyes narrowing as he took in his captors. Layla stood tall, her piercing gaze locked on him, while Raziel and Mary loomed nearby, their presence radiating quiet menace.

"Let's keep this simple," Layla said, pacing slowly in front of him. "You're going to answer my questions, and if you cooperate, this ends quickly. If not..." She let the implication hang in the air.

The Captain scoffed, his pride keeping him defiant. "You think I'm afraid of you?"

Raziel leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You should be."

The Captain swallowed hard, his confidence faltering under Raziel's icy stare.

"Why was I captured?" Layla asked, her tone steady but insistent. "What's really going on here?"

The Captain hesitated, his skepticism evident. "Why should I tell you anything?"

Layla tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Because you don't have much choice."

The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them. Finally, the Captain let out a defeated sigh.

"Fine," he said, his voice bitter. "You were targeted because you looked like easy prey. The city lord has been struggling to fill his coffers, so he's turned to... unconventional methods. Anyone who looks like they come from money is detained and ransomed back to their families. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Layla's eyes narrowed. "So I was nothing more than a payday."

The Captain shrugged, his defiance returning in the face of his honesty. "You don't belong here. You stick out like a sore thumb, and the city lord saw an opportunity."

Raziel's hands tightened into fists, but Layla held up a hand to stop him.

"Why not just rob me outright?" she pressed. "Why the charade of imprisonment?"

"Because it's easier this way," the Captain replied. "Most people comply without a fuss. Less mess, less risk."

Layla straightened, her expression dark. "Well, I'm not most people."

The Captain met her gaze, his jaw tightening. "Clearly."

Layla stepped back, her mind racing as she processed the information. This wasn't just about her—it was a symptom of a larger problem. The city lord's desperation for money had turned the town into a trap for anyone who didn't fit in, and she couldn't let it continue.

Turning to Raziel and Mary, she spoke quietly but firmly. "We need to decide our next move. This isn't just about us anymore."

Mary nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Agreed. But first, what do we do with him?"

Layla glanced at the Captain, her gaze cold. "He'll stay here—for now. We'll deal with him later."

The Captain's defiance flickered, replaced by a hint of unease. Layla didn't spare him another glance as she turned back to her companions, her mind already racing with plans to confront the corruption that had ensnared the city.

______

News of the Knight Captain's capture reached Lord Brighton swiftly, carried by a breathless messenger who stumbled into the grand hall of his estate.

The lord, a broad-shouldered man with a sharp gaze and an air of ruthless pragmatism, was seated at a massive oak desk, pouring over a series of ledgers. His piercing eyes flicked up at the interruption, irritation flashing across his features.

"What is it now?" he barked, setting down his quill.

The messenger bowed hastily, sweat glistening on his brow. "M-my lord, word has come from the city—Knight Captain has been... detained."

Brighton's expression hardened instantly, his jaw tightening as he rose from his seat. "Detained? By whom?"

"A group of outsiders, my lord. They're staying at the Inn and they are holding him hostage. Our sources say that these people are from Lord Lockhart's territory but we were not able to confirm anything yet."

Brighton slammed a fist onto the desk, the sound echoing through the chamber. "Outsiders? They dare lay hands on one of my men?" He began pacing, his long strides betraying the storm brewing within. "Do they not understand who governs this city? Foolish, reckless interlopers."

The messenger hesitated, then added cautiously, "There's talk in the town that one of them is a woman of noble bearing. Perhaps they thought her ransom might be worth—"

Brighton cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. "I don't care what they thought. Eldric is loyal, and his capture makes me look weak. That cannot stand."

He turned to his steward, who had been standing quietly near the door. "Send a detachment of my best guards to the inn immediately. Instruct them to retrieve Eldric at any cost and bring me these outsiders—alive if possible, but I won't mourn if they resist."

The steward nodded and left to carry out the orders. Brighton turned back to the messenger. "And you, spread word that any who oppose my rule will face swift and brutal consequences. Let the city know that I will not tolerate defiance."

The messenger bowed deeply and scurried out of the room, leaving Brighton to brood in silence. His mind churned with calculations—who these outsiders might be, what they wanted, and how their capture of his Knight Captain could impact his already precarious grip on power.

"This city is mine," he muttered to himself, his voice low and venomous. "And no one threatens my authority without paying the price."