Zarius exchanged a swift, heavy look with Cherion. The faint warmth that had filled the room only moments ago vanished instantly, replaced by that familiar, watchful tension that always accompanied central court business. Cherion straightened his dark coat, smoothing down the high collar with his palms before nodding at Zarius.
"Let's see what they want," Cherion murmured quietly.
They followed Flio down the grand stone staircase, their footsteps echoing against the high vaulted ceilings of the estate's inner wing.
In the center of the broad reception hall, three tall figures in dark green robes trimmed with silver stood near the hearth. Archmage Cassius stood right in the middle, a sharp-eyed man with silvering hair pulled tightly back into a neat tail, flanked by two younger mages who looked visibly restless, their hands tucked deep into their wide wool sleeves.
