Kiaria, Diala, and the others hovered above the marketplace, suspended in midair as though the world itself had yielded its gravity to them.
Below, the entire population of the fortress–tribes, associations, merchants, rescued captives–knelt as one, foreheads pressed to stone, bodies aligned in submission without instruction.
"Hail the Lord God."
The words rolled across the market place like a tide, layered and unified, yet Kiaria did not answer. He did not acknowledge the greeting, did not move, did not give the one command everyone waited for. Silence stretched. Breath held. Time passed without permission. Still, no one lifted their head–not even the children clinging to their elders' sleeves.
Kiaria turned slightly and looked toward Princess Lainsa.
