The High Council Chamber of the North was a cathedral of cold judgment, a monolithic structure carved from star-glass and white marble that shivered under the collective weight of a thousand years of oppressive law.
Above, the massive skylights were open to the pale, biting sky of the North, allowing the frigid mountain wind to whip through the rows of hooded judges and silent, armored guards. The air inside was thick with the scent of ozone and stale incense.
