My attention drifted to the left of the King. Upon a tall, straight backed chair sat a man dressed in ceremonial robes of white, deep red and gold. The fabrics of his robes fell around him in heavy folds and yet he sat upright, shoulders straight.
A small domed cap sat on his head, his fingers were covered in heavy rings and around his neck sat a single gold pendant. A blazing sun, embraced by a half moon.
The Bishop.
He looked much younger than I had imagined him to be. Despite no doubt being much closer in age to the King, his face was almost untouched by age and the lines at the corner of his mouth looked like they had been carved there by habit rather than time.
His eyes met mine and a shiver ran down my spine.
Then the king rose to his feet.
Ethan’s hand settled lightly at the s
