The room held a cold draft. One of the stones near the ceiling had cracked, and wind slipped through every few seconds.
The ropes around their wrists had loosened a little, but not enough to matter.
Sebastian sat across from them. He looked surprisingly unbruised. His white robe was torn in a few places but still bore the abbey's seal. Sebastian seemed in his early forties rather than near fifty. His head was shaved clean and he kept the same blank, calm expression from the moment they were brought in.
Jeriko said nothing.
Vencian leaned back against the wall.
"You've been quiet a while," he said. "We went through some effort to see you, you know."
Sebastian's head turned slightly.
"Honestly," he said, "a glass of wine and I'd tell you everything."
Vencian snorted. "That's a shame. We're fresh out."
Sebastian gave a short nod.
"Then I'll manage. Where should I start from?"
Jeriko's deep voice cut in. "From the beginning."
Sebastian paused and took a breath before speaking.
"Two years ago, during the war, one of the border camps was overrun. The northern flank fell apart faster than anyone expected. Vicorra's forces had to pull back. They needed a new site for intelligence operations."
Jeriko listened without a word.
Sebastian continued quietly, "They came to me. The monastery was isolated but still within reach of the capital. It had resources – space, silence. Ortega convinced me to agree, saying the arrangement would be discreet."
"And you agreed?" Jeriko asked.
"I did. At the time, it seemed like the right move."
Jeriko's eyes narrowed. "What changed?"
Sebastian took another breath. "After the proposal passed, Sarvos became the head of its security wing. He came to me later and said he wanted me to secretly copy Vicorra's cipher book. He said he would make sure I got the chance to do it."
Jeriko raised an eyebrow. "And you agreed. Again."
Sebastian swallowed. "I did. Quietly. No one else in the abbey knew."
Vencian frowned. "Then why are you tied up like us?" he asked.
Sebastian kept his head bowed. "Because I drew the line at killing Caesor Vicorra," he said quietly.
Jeriko snapped, "Then why help them at all?"
Sebastian shook his head. "I didn't know where it would lead."
"You thought Sarvos would steal from my house, deliver it to your lords, get a pat on the head, and that would be it?"
Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut.
"I didn't know what was right anymore."
"You're a grown man," Jeriko said.
"I know," Sebastian replied softly.
A tense silence followed. Vencian shifted on the floor.
"Still doesn't explain why you're alive. If you're off the plan, why spare you?"
Sebastian looked up.
"Because Sarvos asked them to."
Vencian's eyebrows shot up. "That's it?" he asked. "He's staging a conspiracy and making exceptions?"
Sebastian hesitated.
"It's personal."
Jeriko's frown deepened. The atmosphere in the cell changed. Vencian stayed silent, thinking.
Sebastian glanced at the door, then back to them.
"He keeps me close."
Jeriko blinked as those words sank in. For a few seconds, nobody moved. Jeriko regained focus.
"What do you mean, keeps you close?" he asked.
Sebastian looked down again, unable or unwilling to elaborate.
Vencian stayed quiet. The words hadn't fully landed yet. His thoughts ran in strange directions. The silence dragged.
Jeriko's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying he—"
"Yes," Sebastian said firmly. His voice cut through the air. The truth was plain between them now.
Vencian leaned back slightly. His brain stalled for a second, then kicked back into motion.
Of all the things he expected in this freezing room, this was not on the list. A conspiracy? Sure. An inside man? Fine. But this...
Sarvos keeping Sebastian close? That was something else.
Now it made sense. It made too much sense. Why Sebastian was alive. Why the guards treated him differently. Why Ortega hadn't finished Sebastian off when he became a liability. Jeriko looked stunned, trying to catch up.
"Is this some kind of joke?" he asked. "He's a knight of the house. You're—"
"A monk," Sebastian finished. "I know."
Jeriko leaned back like the floor had shifted under him.
Vencian glanced at him.
From where he came from, this wouldn't have been shocking. Maybe still rare. Maybe kept quiet. But it wasn't something people flinched from. Here, though? He could feel the weight of it.
"This isn't normal, is it?" he asked quietly.
Sebastian didn't answer.
Jeriko exhaled slowly. His voice had dropped.
"He's the one who dragged you into this mess. And now you're sitting here rotting for it?"
"I knew what I was risking," Sebastian said.
Vencian couldn't tell if that made him braver or more foolish.
He looked at the floor. Then at the door. Then back to the man across from them.
Nothing about this situation made sense. Yet in some twisted way, everything suddenly fit together.
The attack on Monteluz hadn't been random. It hadn't even been a real failure.
House Montaro had fed the enemy information on purpose. They made it look like a breach. When the attack came, they let it happen. Then turned around and claimed to be victims of bad intelligence.
With Ortega's help, they forged a letter in Vicorra's cipher. The blame shifted cleanly.
All eyes turned to House Vicorra.
This wasn't some spur-of-the-moment plan. This had been years in the making. Small steps. Gradual changes. The kind that slipped by unnoticed until it was already too late.
Vencian realized what Sebastian was telling them. If this went on, Caesor Vicorra would be tried and executed. His entire house would fall.
They had to act. They had to expose Sarvos Ortega's treachery.
Vencian steeled himself. "Are you willing to give testimony against Sarvos Ortega?" he asked, his voice suddenly firm.
Sebastian looked up in Vencian's eyes but stayed silent and then lowered his gaze.
"Yes or no, Sebastian?" Vencian pressed.
After a moment, Sebastian lifted his head and gave a slow nod. Vencian wasn't sure if the answer came from guilt or something deeper. He honestly didn't care.
"Great. It'd be shame if we had to made it out of here without you," he said.
Vencian remembered Jeriko's preparations. Before moving toward the Laauar Plains, Jeriko had sent a messenger to the Vicorra marquessate to bring reinforcements. Those troops would take time to arrive.
Osrick is no fool. He must have considered this possibility, too.
That could mean only one thing: Osrick was waiting for orders. He would either have them killed here or moved to a place the reinforcements could not reach.
It was a stall tactic—buying enough time until Caesor Vicorra's trial was over and he was sentenced to die. None of those options was acceptable.
If they had to kill they could have killed me in the monastery. That likely indicates they are trying to not make us look martyr.
Vencian let the silence hold. He felt the weight of urgency in the air. Whatever Osrick planned, he would not leave any witnesses. They had one shot before the execution orders came down.
And they had to make it count.
"I have a plan," Vencian said confidently.