Only hours earlier, Levina had persuaded her to leave the sanctuary of the castle to visit the High Temple of Vireon—an sprawling monument of dark marble perched on the sea cliffs. Levina had intended it as a quiet offering of gratitude for Aurelia's safe return from the clutches of Seraphielle, the high priestess of the Vale who had abducted her three nights prior.
Aurelia, despite her allegiance to the Southern flame of Ignarion, had agreed simply to escape the smothering walls of her chambers. But the moment her foot touched the marble steps of the temple, the peace shattered.
Word had spread through the capital like wildfire. Within minutes, hundreds of townspeople had surged up the temple steps, weeping, chanting, and straining past the iron pikes of the royal guard just to brush the hem of her cloak. They did not see a mortal woman; they saw a living miracle touched by their god.
