Imperial Citadel.
The colossal fortress-palace of House Haynam, both a symbol of power and a marvel of architecture, loomed over the capital city of Aranal.
Upon the grand balcony of the Emperor's private chamber, two figures stood in silence, gazing out at the vast city sprawled beneath them.
The weather was gloomy, and the sky hung heavy with dark clouds, promising the arrival of rain. A cool breeze brushed against Marden's figure as he poured himself a glass of wine.
Beside him, Leland rested his hands on the marble railing, his expression dark and contemplative.
Marden took a sip of wine from his goblet, then turned to Leland with a faint smile on his lips.
"No need to brood, my friend," he said calmly. "No matter the Lord's origins, our loyalty to him remains steadfast."
"That goes without saying, but…" Leland nodded. He then turned to the man and added with narrowed eyes, "But why would you suddenly question the Lord's origins? That is unlike you."
