The side chapel smelled of old stone and fresh corruption. Faint golden veins pulsed through the cracked walls like living circuits, leftover from the battle.
The team had just returned from the probe. Reports were short and blunt. Aiden stood in the center while the others sat or leaned against the altar rail.
Catherine listened with her arms crossed. Her silver-streaked hair and the new hardened lines on her face made her look sharper than before.
Her eyes kept sliding away from the report and onto Flora. The golden corruption swirls on her daughter's collarbones and thighs glowed softly under the low light.
Flora stood with quiet confidence, legs slightly apart, the afterglow of what happened during the probe still obvious in the way she carried herself.
Catherine didn't raise her voice. She simply lifted a hand and cut the debrief short.
"Enough. Before we plan another step, Aiden needs reminding." Her gaze locked on him. "Who owns the deepest chains."
