Three figures were already waiting by the long table.
Standing directly opposite the entrance, before the observation window, was the Ironspine Duke, Hakon Perik. He stood so still he seemed to have merged with the scorched battlefield behind him.
He still wore his iron-gray armor, now marred with fresh battle scars. His gray-blue eyes calmly watched Murphy as he entered.
On the left side of the table, Saint Cyril Cardinal sat upright in a high-backed chair upholstered in thick velvet.
He looked even older and more exhausted than before. His face was ashen and his eye sockets were sunken, but his gaze was still filled with holy majesty.
His fingers rested lightly on the Golden Scepter in his lap, which emanated a faint glow. His eyes fell upon Murphy, filled with scrutiny.
On the right side of the table stood Valken, the Metropolitan Bishop.
His deep blue Shepherd's Robe was spotless, and his ice-blue irises, like polar frost, were fixed on Murphy.
