The throne room fell silent once more after Sylvia spoke her final words. Her sentence still hung in the air, like a small flame waiting whether to flicker out or burst into an inferno.
Aurelia said nothing. She remained bowed, hands clenched, as if suppressing a tremble from within.
To the right of the room, Celes stood with her arms crossed. Her gaze was sharp not friendly, but not immediately hostile either. Beside her, Varnak stood like a steel statue, eyes locked unflinchingly on the slightest movement from the red-haired mage.
"Stand up," Sylvia said at last.
Aurelia lifted her face, startled for a moment, then slowly rose to her feet. She awaited the next command.
Sylvia descended from her throne. Her black gown flowed like a shadow across the stone floor, her footsteps echoing softly. She walked closer, stopping just a few steps from Aurelia. Sylvia's crimson eyes gazed deeply into the bright brown eyes of the mage.
"Will you continue to worship Ithara?"
