Prove Me Otherwise, Priest

The door creaked—just enough to let Ru slip in. He moved quietly through the gap, each step deliberate, theatrical. Whether he was chasing adventure or performing for the unseen audience remained a mystery.

Killian was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he was already asleep, tangled in the absurd luxury of his five-person bed.

“While he’s sleeping, I can poke around in his room—or rooms,” Ru murmured. “Maybe I’ll find a tool that takes me straight to the audience.”

What he didn’t know: Fortune had already begun weaving gold into Killian’s path.

Just moments earlier—

Killian had shrugged off his pastel coat, humming absently as the fabric puddled like melted sunlight at his feet. His elbow clipped the edge of a vase.

It toppled and shattered with a sound like frozen laughter.

Killian didn’t flinch. The world broke around him so frequently that he barely noticed it anymore.

Then came the clink—clink—clink of coins rolling across marble.