Going forward

Alpheo sat in a private chamber deep within the palace, the air thick with the weight of dread, surrounded by the people whose counsel counted for him.

Yet even they seemed at a loss, their expressions grim as they absorbed the gravity of the news. No one dared to voice the obvious: this was a disaster.

A party affiliated with the crown—more or less—had killed a priest. Under normal circumstances, that alone would have been a scandal. But the fact that the perpetrators were unbelievers? That made it a diplomatic catastrophe of the highest order.

For a long moment, silence reigned, heavy and suffocating, as if the sheer act of speaking might summon the storm that loomed on the horizon. Finally, Alpheo exhaled sharply, the sound cutting through the stillness like a blade. He straightened in his seat, his sharp eyes scanning the room before he broke the silence.