The Grand Cathedral of the Holy City rose before me like a mountain carved from light and stone. Its spires pierced the clouds, its walls gleamed white in the morning sun, and its great doors stood open like the mouth of a giant, waiting to swallow me whole. I had walked through those doors once before, in another life, as Selene the Saint. Now I approached them as Rosalind Thorne, a woman whose fate hung on the judgement of those within.
Sir Edric flanked me, his presence a solid anchor in the sea of ecclesiastical grandeur. Behind us, a contingent of northern knights waited, their faces carved from the same stone as their Duke. Kaelen had wanted to accompany me, but the assessment's terms forbade it. He could only wait, as I would wait, for the panel's decision.
