Chapter: The Chains of Greed
Hours had gone since the trial begun.
Yet—the Council chamber had never been so still.
Velrosa Lionarde stood alone before the assembled lords, the colored banners of their houses hanging limp in the stifling air. Torchlight guttered, casting long and shifting shadows.
Every breath, every heartbeat seemed a betrayal of silence.
And even then, as the herald's voice faded after reading the fourth accusation, another figure stirred.
Lord Lezarius of House Volmir.
A man with the gaunt face of a vulture and the gleaming black hair of a noble too vain to accept the ravages of age.
His fine robes, heavy with green velvet and gold sigils, swept around him as he took the center floor.
He bowed low — mockingly low — to the Council.
"My lords, my ladies," Lezarius said, his voice smooth, oily, dangerous, "it is with no small sorrow that I must step forward."
He straightened, turning to face Velrosa with an expression of calculated pity.
