High Priestess Miraya's private chambers in the Temple of Stars were simpler than I'd expected—sparse furnishings, walls lined with ancient texts, a single window overlooking the city. She sat at a plain wooden desk, looking more tired than I'd ever seen her.
"Your Highness," she said, rising. "Thank you for coming. Please, sit. We have much to discuss."
I settled into the offered chair, noting that she'd dismissed all attendants. Whatever this was about, she wanted absolute privacy.
"You look exhausted," I observed.
"Three weeks of housing storm refugees while coordinating disaster relief will do that," she replied with a wan smile. "But that's not why I asked you here. I need to discuss something that's been developing within the Temple. Something that affects you directly."
"The two corrupted bishops you dealt with?"
