“If you put it that way, I wouldn’t know.”
The man growled but still complied with the request for more specific information.
“The prophet who told Count Rugno about the location of the gold mine.”
“That’s me.”
“The prophet who told Viscount Melborn about the herb to cure his daughter’s illness.”
“That’s also me.”
“The prophet who informed the young Marquess Harmaden that his fiancée was a fraud.”
“That’s me too.”
“The prophet who warned about the dungeon burst in Count Copern’s territory.”
“That’s me as well.”
As the list of anecdotes dragged on endlessly, Agnes pulled a face of exasperation.
“Wow, that’s a lot of groundwork.”
“Our Reed is thorough and diligent. It’s a virtue of the final mastermind.”
The man nodded in satisfaction, then arrogantly jerked his chin toward the carriage parked outside.
“Follow me. A noble…