The air in the Sanctum, which had finally begun to settle into a stunned, respectful hush, was ripped apart by Alaric's voice. It wasn't just a roar; it was a challenge to the very foundation of the throne.
Julian's heart hammered against his ribs. He felt the phantom itch of a 'Danger' notification that never came. He was flying blind now, no longer able to see the rising level of Aurelian's murderous intent or his impending fate.
Behind the silk veil, Aurelian's silhouette went perfectly still.
The silence that followed was more terrifying than the roar. The High Priest and the white-clad Inquisitors looked toward the dais, their faces etched with a sudden, sharp apprehension. To call the Emperor a liar in front of the Holy delegation was to invite a catastrophe.
"Lucien," Aurelian's voice finally drifted down, quiet and razor-edged. "You have your prize. You have the boy, you have the truth, and you have your freedom. Do not push the Sun into an eclipse."
