Julian nodded, casting one last wary look at Zane before turning toward the study. As he walked away, he could still hear Zaneâs mocking remarks,
"The North is a cage, Julian! Even a gilded one is still a cage! Youâll see!"
Julian ignored him, pushing open the heavy oak doors to the study. But as he sat down across from a waiting Lucius, the weight of the morningâs peace felt suddenly fragile.
It was then that he noticed a small, white envelope tucked into the corner of his teaching lecternâsomething that hadnât been there the previous day.
His hand shook as he reached for it. His fear of letters is still buried in his bones, as if it would magically become one of the late Duchessâs letters.
But thankfully, it bore the Crooked Cross of the Holy Inquisitors. It wasnât the official post; it had been hand-delivered by someone already inside the walls.
He realized that while Alaric was watching the Prince, someone else was already watching him. Just who?
He shook his head and decided to check the content of the letter.
Julian broke the wax, and as his eyes scanned the elegant, sharp script, his blood ran cold.
"To the Saint of the North,
The Mirror of True Purity does not lie, yet its light belongs to the Heavens, not the frozen earth. We seek only a âspiritual consultationâ to verify the miracle that has graced your form. Expect our Purifier, Elian, and the Holy Delegation within the fortnight.
Do not let the mountains hide what the Sun has already seen."
Julianâs heart hammered against his ribs. This was a hand-delivered warning, a shadow already inside the manor.
He looked up and saw Lucius watching him. The boy had stopped playing, his blue eyes fixed on the white parchment in Julianâs shaking hands. Lucius tilted his head, reaching for his slate.
[Is it a bad letter?]
Julian quickly folded the paper, shoving it into his pocket.
"Itâs just... official business, Lucius. Nothing for you to worry about."
He truly hoped it was nothing to worry about.
They mightâve sent this letter, but they were still a rival Empire. They canât just come to the North without authorization.
And as if the world was mocking him, his fears came true.
Just as he was about to start the lessons and shove the contents of the letter to the back of his mind for now, a heavy thud echoed through the hallwaysâthe sound of the great castle bells.
Julian and Lucius turned their heads. What had happened?
Julian sensed something wasnât right. He felt an unease creeping into his heart.
"Come on, Lucius. Letâs go out and see whatâs going on first," Lucius nodded and got down from the chair.
A few minutes later, Julian stood at the back of the Great Hall, Lucius gripping his hand tightly.
The Great Hall was crowded and uncomfortably quiet. Julian had never been in this room while the Duke was holding court with his lords. Standing at the back, holding Luciusâs hand, he felt out of place. The Northern lords were rough, silent men who looked at him with a mix of curiosity and wariness.
At the front of the hall, Alaric stood like a solid, dark wall of tension. His back was hunched, his shoulders tight. In his hand, he gripped an envelope with the gold seal of the Emperor.
This...
"Theyâve authorized it." Alaricâs voice was a low, heavy rumble that made the knights in the room go still. "The Emperor has granted the Holy Empireâs delegation safe passage to the Northern gates. They claim it is a âdiplomatic and spiritual visitâ to check on the welfare of the Saint."
Alaric crumbled the letter in his hand, his knuckles turning white, his eyes burning with a fierce light.
"They arenât coming to check on him. Theyâre coming to take him. Theyâre coming to take my Julian."
Julian felt the letter in his pocket, the letter suddenly feeling as hot as a brand against his thigh. He looked at Alaricâat the raw, protective fury etched into his faceâand remembered the promise he had made just that morning.
No more secrets.
He had promised.
Julian stepped forward, reaching into his robe. His fingers brushed against the white wax of the Crooked Cross before he pulled the small, hand-delivered envelope out.
"Lucien," Julian said, his voice clear and steady despite the trembling deep in his chest. "You arenât the only one they reached out to. I found this on my desk in the study. It wasnât sent by post; someone inside these walls put it there."
The room went deathly quiet. Alaricâs gaze snapped to the small white slip of paper in Julianâs hand. He took it, his movements slow and deliberate, and smoothed out the wrinkles. As he read the words from the letterâthe mention of a âspiritual consultationâ and the warning not to hide a miracleâthe air in the Great Hall seemed to grow thin and heavy.
But Alaric didnât explode in rage. Instead, he became unnervingly still. He looked at the letter, then at the doors, then back at Julian.
"On your desk," Alaric repeated, his voice dropping into a hard, flat tone. "Inside my home?"
It mustâve been a blow to him, but it was truly a cause for concern.
But Julian was looking at the issue they had at hand regarding the holy Empire.
"If the Emperor has authorized their entry, Lucien, we cannot bar the gates," Julian said, trying to bring the Duke back from the dark ledge of his anger. "An official order and a Holy visit... if we refuse, it will be seen as an act of war against both the Church and the Throne."
Alaric turned, ignoring the commanders and the curious eyes of the court. He walked across the hall and placed a heavy, grounding hand on Julianâs shoulder, his thumb pressing firmly into the fabric.
"Let them come," Alaric hissed, his voice thick with a dark, protective edge. "They may have a signature from the Capital, but they do not have my submission. I will find who brought this into the study, and I will find every shadow theyâve planted."
Julian looked at the man before himâa man who looked ready to tear the mountains down to keep him safe.
"We have two weeks," Julian whispered.
Two weeks before the priest named Elian and his Purifiers would arrive at the gate, coming to claim a âmiracleâ that Julian was beginning to realize he might never be able to hide.