The Saintess had come.
Amber's breath caught the moment she saw her silhouette framed in the archway — a woman draped in white, light clinging to her like a confession. Her veil shimmered faintly, catching the halo of dusk that filtered through stained glass. Behind her, holy guards carried staffs capped with small suns, their radiance humming faintly like the murmur of prayer.
Everyone in the chamber rose. Priests and nuns exchanged glances — uneasy, tight-lipped. The air thickened with the tension of secrets everyone shared but no one dared name.
Only Shila laughed. A sharp, almost musical sound that echoed too loudly against the marble. It cut through the sanctity like a bell of mockery.
