Alaric's eyes were bloodshot, the blue irises vibrating with a mix of fury and helplessness.
When he saw Julian standing in the doorway, he simply stood up, his large hands flat on the wood of his desk as if he were trying to keep the entire manor from shaking.
"The Purifier has turned my home into a shrine," Alaric rasped, his voice sounding like gravel being ground together.
Then, he turned to the vassals and waved them off.
They gave the Duke one long, worried look, and one said,
"Your Grace, please think wisely on this."
"I said I know what I am doing," Alaric growled back, his eyes dark, and they left, though Alaric's words did not give them any sort of comfort.
Once the door slammed shut and the last of the nervous vassals had scurried out, Alaric let out a jagged breath.
He looked at Julian, and for a moment, the iron mask of the Duke slipped, revealing a man who was terrified.
