Kaelen and his northern knights were standing in a rigid perimeter, their hands resting on the hilt of their swords.
The moment the door cleared, Kaelen's eyes snapped to Julian. He didn't just see the sudden, complete change to vibrant blue in both of Julian's eyes—he felt the sheer mass of the power radiating from the tutor.
The knight's breath caught, and instinctively, his shoulders dropped as he gave a deep, respectful bow that he had never offered to any priest in this empire.
Behind him, the northern knights immediately followed suit, their armor clinking in the sudden silence.
Julian didn't say a word. He walked with a smooth, unhurried stride, his blue robes brushing against the stone. Alaric walked right beside him, his massive frame projecting a silent, lethal warning to anyone who even dared to breathe too loudly, while Lucius kept pace at his father's side, his small face set in serious imitation.
But when he began to lag behind, Alaric lifted him into his arms.
