Members of the Fourth's court sat in the corner of his private chambers, the warm glow of a single oil lamp left faint shadows on the stone walls.
Around him, his trusted gathered as they so often did now.
Aric tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, a soft rhythm that matched the cadence of his thoughts.
"The people are talking," he said finally, his voice steady but low. "Rumors are one thing, but to truly shake the Church's power, we need something tangible. Something they can see with their own eyes."
Serina turned her gaze back to him, a faint smirk curling her lips. "You want a spectacle."
"Precisely," Aric replied, his tone sharpening. "A public incident—but it must appear accidental. A relic exposed for what it truly is. The commoners need proof that the Church's foundation is hollow, and we will provide it."
