A suffocating tension lingered in the air of the grand imperial hall.
None of the assembled ministers dared to make a sound. Those who were standing stiffened like statues, while the kneeling nobles kept their heads lowered, their eyes furtively glancing between Empress Yevna and High Inquisitor Caes. The heavy silence was so oppressive that even breathing felt inappropriate.
Yevna had been aware that disaster had struck several regions of the empire, but she had not expected the situation to be so severe. A sense of dread crept into her heart—this didn't feel like a mere coincidence. She could almost sense an invisible hand manipulating events from the shadows.
"The High Inquisitor speaks the truth?" Yevna asked, her voice calm but sharp as she turned toward the Imperial Prime Minister, Albert. Her gaze carried weight—a demand for honesty, but also for loyalty.
