Watching the elderly new envoy of the Church of the Goddess of Harvest arrive at the palace, the guards who had long been notified glanced at the Chamberlain, who dutifully went forward to greet him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Wan Haimu." The young Chamberlain sized up the old man before him, who seemed impoverished, wearing the cheapest cloth shoes full of damage and repairs. His bishop's robe, although new, seemed incongruent with the worn collar of his inner lining from years of use. He was an unkempt old man; in a different context, the Chamberlain would not hesitate to ask him to leave.
