High Priest Aldous's office was designed to intimidate.
Three stories above ground level, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the entire religious district. Bookshelves lined with holy texts and legal precedents created walls of accumulated authority. The desk was positioned so visitors faced the light while Aldous remained backlit – a subtle psychological advantage.
Amateur tactics, really. Damien had studied power dynamics from texts written centuries into the future.
He settled into the offered chair with deliberate ease, refusing to show discomfort despite the blinding sunlight. "High Priest. Thank you for the invitation."
"Lord Valcrest." Aldous was in his fifties, lean and sharp-featured, with eyes that missed nothing. "I appreciate you attending on such short notice. I'm certain you're exhausted from your... heroic rescue."
The pause before 'heroic' was intentional. Planting doubt before the conversation even began.
