By the time the bishop's representatives were admitted into House Arvane, Adrian had been awake for nearly an hour. He had spent most of that time lying in his cradle while sunlight moved slowly across the ceiling, occasionally turning his head toward the sound of his mother's voice whenever she spoke.
Elira had finished reading the letter in her hands and was now watching the two men waiting in the adjoining sitting room.
The older of the two wore the white and gold robes of the Church, though his clothing was considerably more elaborate than Father Merian's. A narrow golden chain rested across his chest, from which hung a small medallion depicting a closed eye surrounded by seven rays. His companion was younger and dressed in a dark clerical robe, carrying a wooden case beneath one arm.
Neither man had introduced himself yet.
Elira found that mildly irritating.
"Lady Arvane," the older priest said, offering a polite bow. "I am High Deacon Lucien Vale, representing His Grace, Bishop Othmar. This is Brother Caldus, one of the cathedral's junior clerics."
Elira returned the greeting from her chair.
"High Deacon."
"We apologize for arriving without greater notice."
"You arrived with notice. My steward informed me."
Lucien smiled.
"Then I suppose our manners have survived the journey."
Elira studied him for a moment before glancing toward the nursery.
"You requested to see my son."
"His Grace wishes to perform the child's formal blessing."
"Father Merian has already blessed him."
"We are aware."
"Then why is another blessing necessary?"
The deacon's smile remained, but his eyes became more serious.
"Necessary is perhaps too strong a word. A noble child of House Arvane is entitled to receive a blessing before the altar of the cathedral, and His Grace believes it appropriate to uphold that tradition."
Elira leaned back.
She understood what he had not said.
The bishop wanted to be seen blessing the Count's son.
House Arvane was old, wealthy, and politically important. Its lands bordered two other noble territories, and Count Edric held a seat on the royal council. The Church had always maintained a close relationship with the family, but relationships between powerful institutions were rarely built entirely upon affection.
"You are welcome to explain the tradition to my husband," she said. "He is currently speaking with Father Merian."
Lucien inclined his head.
"Of course."
His eyes shifted briefly toward the nursery.
"May we see the child?"
Elira hesitated.
Then she nodded.
"Only for a moment."
Brother Caldus stepped forward and opened the wooden case he had been carrying.
Elira immediately noticed what was inside.
A small silver vessel rested upon a bed of dark cloth.
"What is that?"
"A vial of sanctified water."
"From the cathedral?"
"From the central reliquary."
Elira's expression tightened.
"Why?"
"The formal blessing requires it."
She looked at him for several seconds before answering.
"Father Merian did not use anything like that."
"No."
"Then what makes this blessing different?"
Lucien intervened before Caldus could answer.
"Nothing that should concern you, Lady Arvane. It is simply the cathedral's custom."
That answer did not satisfy her.
Still, she stood.
"Come."
The three of them entered the nursery.
Adrian was awake.
He had no understanding of the conversation, but he noticed the arrival of unfamiliar voices. His eyes moved slowly toward the doorway as the adults entered.
Elira approached the cradle.
"This is Adrian."
Lucien looked down at him.
For the first time since entering the estate, the deacon's composure changed.
Only slightly.
His eyes narrowed.
He leaned closer.
Adrian stared back.
There was nothing remarkable about the child. His eyes were dark, his hair was fine and black, and his movements were uncoordinated in the way expected of a newborn.
Lucien straightened.
"He appears healthy."
"He is."
Brother Caldus remained unusually quiet.
Elira noticed.
"You have something to say?"
The young priest looked embarrassed.
"No, my lady."
"Then why are you staring at him?"
"I apologize."
He lowered his gaze.
Lucien gave him a brief warning glance before turning back to Elira.
"His Grace will expect you at the cathedral within the next few days."
"I will discuss it with my husband."
"Naturally."
Lucien bowed.
"We will take our leave."
Elira watched them depart.
She waited until the door closed before looking at Adrian again.
"You certainly attract attention for someone who has only been alive a few weeks."
Adrian responded by closing his eyes.
Elira laughed.
"Perhaps you have already decided that adults talk too much."
She lifted him from the cradle and held him against her shoulder.
Outside the nursery, the priests walked through the corridor toward the entrance.
Brother Caldus waited until they were beyond the hearing of the servants before speaking.
"High Deacon."
Lucien continued walking.
"What?"
"Did you feel it?"
Lucien stopped.
The younger priest swallowed.
"I don't know how to describe it."
"Then don't."
"But—"
"Not here."
Lucien glanced toward the corridor behind them.
Several servants were nearby.
He lowered his voice.
"Whatever you think you noticed, you will say nothing about it until we return to the cathedral."
Caldus nodded.
"Yes, High Deacon."
They continued walking.
Neither man looked back.
Count Edric returned shortly after midday.
He found Elira in the library rather than the nursery, which immediately told him that she had been thinking.
She was seated beside the tall windows with Adrian sleeping in her arms.
Edric removed his gloves.
"The bishop's men came."
"I know."
"They spoke to you?"
"They wanted to see Adrian."
"And?"
"They saw him."
Edric frowned.
"Did they say why the bishop is suddenly interested?"
"Nothing convincing."
She told him about the sanctified water and the cathedral's insistence upon performing a second blessing.
Edric listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he walked toward the fireplace.
"Father Merian is still here."
"Where?"
"The chapel."
"I'll speak with him."
Elira watched her husband.
"Edric."
He stopped.
"Yes?"
"Something about the younger priest was strange."
"How?"
"I don't know. He looked at Adrian as if he expected to find something."
Edric's expression hardened.
"Did he touch him?"
"No."
"Good."
He walked toward the door.
Elira called after him.
"Don't turn this into a confrontation."
"I'm not planning one."
"You always say that before turning something into a confrontation."
Edric looked back at her.
"That is unfair."
"Is it?"
He smiled faintly.
"Probably not."
Then he left.
Father Merian was sitting alone in the chapel when Edric entered.
The priest was reading from an old leather-bound book, though he closed it when he noticed the Count.
"The bishop sent representatives."
"So I heard."
"They brought sanctified water."
Father Merian's expression became thoughtful.
"They did?"
"Apparently the cathedral considers Adrian's blessing incomplete."
"Interesting."
"You don't seem surprised."
"I am surprised."
Father Merian stood and walked toward the altar.
"The Church has several levels of blessing. Most families never concern themselves with the distinctions because an ordinary blessing is sufficient for daily life. The cathedral reserves certain rites for important occasions."
"Is the birth of a Count's son one of them?"
"Normally, yes."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I assumed the bishop would."
Edric folded his arms.
"Did you know the cathedral had rung its bells when Adrian was born?"
"I knew they had rung."
"Did you know why?"
"No."
Father Merian looked toward the religious symbols arranged behind the altar.
"Perhaps the bishop believes the bells were significant."
"Do you?"
The priest was silent for several seconds.
"I believe the gods sometimes make their presence known in ways we do not understand."
"That's not the same as saying the bells were a divine sign."
"No."
"Then what do you believe?"
Father Merian turned toward him.
"I believe we should be careful about assigning meaning to events simply because we do not understand them."
Edric nodded slowly.
That answer was closer to what he wanted.
The priest continued.
"Your son does not need to be treated as an omen."
"Good."
"He needs to be allowed to grow."
Edric looked relieved.
"I thought you would say something more complicated."
"I am a priest, Edric, not a prophet."
The Count smiled.
"Sometimes I forget the difference."
Father Merian returned to his book.
"Your wife should take him to the cathedral eventually. Not because I think he is marked by divine favor, but because the Church is part of the world he has been born into."
Edric's expression became thoughtful.
"That is what concerns me."
"Why?"
"Because if the Church becomes interested in him, I want to understand why."
Father Merian looked at him.
"Then find out."
Three days later, the Arvane carriage left the estate.
The journey to the Grand Cathedral took less than half an hour, but Adrian slept through most of it.
Elira sat opposite Edric with their son resting in her arms while the carriage moved through the city.
Valedria looked different from inside a noble carriage.
From the estate, the city had always seemed distant, reduced to rooftops and towers beyond the walls.
Here, it surrounded them.
They passed through crowded streets where merchants called to customers and craftsmen displayed their work beneath brightly painted awnings. Children ran between adults despite their parents' attempts to keep them close, while carts loaded with grain, timber, and cloth competed for space with mounted guards and travelers entering from the southern gate.
Religious symbols appeared everywhere.
A small shrine stood outside a baker's shop, where a candle burned beneath an image of the Lady of Hearths.
A sailor had painted the symbol of the Sea Mother above the door of an inn.
At a crossroads, a stone pillar carried inscriptions asking the gods to protect travelers.
Adrian slept through all of it.
Edric watched the city through the window.
"This is what he will grow up seeing."
Elira smiled.
"Yes."
"The temples."
"The markets."
"The palace."
"The poor districts too," she said.
Edric looked at her.
"Of course."
"He should know that the world is larger than this carriage."
Edric nodded.
"I agree."
The carriage continued toward the cathedral.
As they approached the central district, the buildings grew older and larger. The roads widened, and the crowds became more orderly. Guards in the white-and-gold colors of the Church stood at every major intersection.
Then the cathedral came into view.
Its towers rose above the city like mountains of pale stone.
Adrian woke.
He had no idea what he was looking at, but the sudden change in light caught his attention.
Elira noticed.
"Look."
She turned him toward the window.
"That is the Grand Cathedral."
Adrian stared at the towers.
For the first time since his birth, his eyes remained fixed on something for more than a few seconds.
Edric noticed.
"He's looking."
"He can see it."
"Perhaps he likes it."
Elira smiled.
"Perhaps."
The carriage entered the cathedral square.
Thousands of people moved across the enormous plaza, but when the Arvane crest appeared on the carriage door, several guards immediately approached.
The family was escorted inside.
Adrian remained in his mother's arms as they crossed the great entrance hall.
The interior was enormous.
Pillars stretched toward a vaulted ceiling covered in painted scenes depicting the gods and the earliest history of the kingdom. Sunlight passed through colored glass high above them, filling the hall with shifting patterns of light.
At the far end stood seven enormous doors.
Beyond them were the principal sanctuaries of the cathedral.
Adrian could not understand any of it.
He only watched.
A man approached them from the central aisle.
He was older than Father Merian, dressed in elaborate white robes embroidered with gold.
The bishop had come personally.
"Count Arvane."
"Your Grace."
They exchanged formal greetings.
The bishop's attention soon moved to the child.
"So this is Adrian."
Elira held him closer.
"Yes."
The bishop smiled.
"May the gods watch over him."
He reached out.
Adrian's fingers moved beneath the blanket.
The bishop's hand stopped before touching him.
For the briefest moment, his expression changed.
Then the smile returned.
"Let us begin."
Above them, somewhere within the cathedral's highest tower, a bell moved.
It did not ring.
Not yet.
But deep beneath the stone floor, where no sunlight reached and no ordinary visitor was permitted to enter, something old shifted in the darkness.
No one in the cathedral noticed.
The bishop began the prayer.
And Adrian listened to the unfamiliar words without understanding any of them.