Aric sat alone in his study, candle flickering shadows across the high walls ligting his face in a strange mixture of soft light and deep shade. His hand rested on an open ledger, and a slight, almost contemplative smile traced his lips as he read through the notes he had made.
He had been preparing for this for days.
The Church of the Holy Flame was no simple place of worship; it was an iron fist hidden in the silken robes of righteousness, capable of influencing the masses and manipulating the nobility with a mere word. But now, Aric had found the cracks, and he had every intention of digging until the Church fell.
The door creaked open, and Viscount Kael entered first, followed by Old Man Hitoshi. They walked with purpose, Kael's steps brisk, while Hitoshi moved with the steady pace of a man who'd seen centuries of strategies rise and fall.
They both paused, bowing their heads briefly before Kael spoke.