The Luminaris estate's private dining room had been transformed for tonight's guests.
Julius Luminaris sat at the head of the table like an emperor holding court, his hair perfectly groomed and his dark outfit emphasizing the authority he had cultivated over decades of political maneuvering.
Around him sat the architects of treason. Men who had traded loyalty for ambition and wrapped their betrayal in patriotic rhetoric.
Lord Castellan occupied the seat to Julius's right, his military bearing evident even in civilian dress clothes. Three decades of service had carved lines into his weathered face, but his eyes remained sharp with the calculating intelligence that had made him indispensable to previous rulers.
Now that same intelligence served rebellion.
