Aeric looked thinner than when I'd last seen him, but his eyes remained sharp as I entered his cell. He'd been provided with books, writing materials, and adequate food—comfortable imprisonment for someone who'd orchestrated multiple assassination attempts.
"Your Highness," he said, setting aside a text on agricultural reform. "I wondered when you'd return. Three weeks since our last conversation. I assume something significant has prompted this visit."
"The Temple is holding a Rite of Divine Judgment," I said without preamble. "Autumn Equinox. The Preservationist faction is using it to challenge my legitimacy. I need to understand how they'll try to manipulate the ceremony."
Aeric's eyebrows rose. "And you're asking me because...?"
