They finally emerged from the cold, damp throat of the tunnel back into the main chapel. The transition from the suffocating air of the Vault to the vast, open space of the cathedral gave Julian a chance to breathe.
Alaric walked beside Julian, his boots thundering against the marble, his face set in a grim mask. He was still carrying Lucius, whose head was tucked into the crook of the Duke's neck.
"I am going with you," Alaric stated, his voice echoing off the high, vaulted ceilings. It wasn't a request; it was a command. "I don't care how sacred this 'Sanctuary' is. I'm not letting you out of my sight again."
The Pope stopped, his white robes swirling as he turned to face them. He looked at the Duke, then at the child sleeping in his arms. "The Sanctuary of the Star-Glass is the highest point of the Spire, Grand Duke. It is a place of absolute purity. Your presence alone is a strain on the sanctity of the ritual—and you are currently holding a child."
