Cherion's entire body went completely rigid, his breath hitching in his throat as the High Priest's words echoed in his ears. Beside him, Zarius moved instantly. The Duke stepped into a protective stance, his hand dropping to the hilt of his blade, his eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare. Gillian, too, snapped out of his trance, his head spinning between Cherion and the unexpected religious authority.
Sensing the immediate hostility, the High Priest quickly raised his hands in a calm gesture. He took a half-step back, his expression entirely gentle and free of malice. "Please, rest easy, Duke Zarius," the old man spoke, his voice a soft, resonant murmur that carried a strange, anchoring warmth. "I am not here with dangerous intent, nor have I informed the imperial knights outside."
