"Merciful Light, she's aligned herself with the demons…"
For several moments, Argidir didn't know what to say, and Dylan didn't press him. Any lord worth his title was prepared with plans for the events that he expected, contingencies for the ones he dreaded, and a scattering of ideas that would only be useful if something fanciful happened, but no one prepared for events like this.
While Argidir tried to marshal his thoughts, Amren picked up the fallen letter, reading it over silently while he watched his father sink. The expression on his face grew darker and darker the more he read, until, by the end, he resembled one of the clouds of coal smoke that hung low over the city when the winds were still and the weather poor.
"Father," Amren said, swallowing heavily as he watched his father grapple with the enormity of the news. "We need to inform Grand Inquisitor Dorothus," he said. "The sooner he knows…"
