Chapter 204: The inquisitors have arrived in the Empire

The Duke walked over, his heavy boots silent on the plush rugs. He stepped behind Julian, wrapping his massive arms around Julian’s shoulders and neck, pulling him back against his chest.

Alaric buried his face in the crook of Julian’s neck, his breath warm against his lover’s skin.

For a moment, the weight of the Empire and the threat of the Pyre felt miles away, and all Julian could think and feel was the warmth and steady heartbeat of his lover.

Julian smiled faintly, leaning his head back against Alaric’s shoulder. "It’s just... everything has changed so fast."

"I’m still here," Alaric muttered, his grip tightening slightly. "Nothing changes that."

It was a small mercy that they were together, though Julian missed Lucius. He wondered if the boy was safe at the manor, or if he, too, was draped in white, mourning an aunt he barely knew.

It was peaceful.

The Healers did not bother them, and they were fed adequately. He spent his nights cuddled in the arms of the man he loved and in the morning... when morning came... Ah, it was also peaceful then.

The waking madness, just as it had appeared, had disappeared again.

And so, Julian no longer dreaded the mornings.

But the peace had to end at some point. Because just as it was silent, the hours passed by faster, and then the fourth day came.

On the fourth day, the atmosphere in the Sanctum shifted. The bells tolled with a different, sharper frequency.

Julian watched from the window as the delegation from the Holy Empire arrived. They were a sea of shimmering and pure white. Every priest and official in the procession had hair as white as fresh snow—a trait that those who had received the blessing of their god possessed.

Just like the priest that Alaric had sneaked into the manor to heal Julian.

The Holy Empire claimed that this white hair, once they had been baptized into the priesthood, was a physical manifestation of their purity.

Among them were the Inquisitors. They were distinct from the priests, their bodies wrapped in heavy, layered white vestments.

Their heads and faces were completely obscured by tight-fitting white cloths, wrapped in a way that left only a narrow slit for their eyes, reminiscent of a rigid, ceremonial cowl.

They moved with a synchronized, ghostly grace, their feet making no sound on the cobblestones as they trailed behind the priest.

They didn’t carry flowers for the Empress, but they did carry something. It was a tall object draped in white.

By the size of it, it seemed like a mirror. Julian could not see clearly, but whatever that was, it definitely had something to do with the ’search’ they were going to conduct on his soul.

"They’re here," Julian whispered.

Alaric lifted his head from where he sat and then got up. He walked over and stood by the window, his eyes narrowed as he watched the white-clad figures enter the Sanctum’s main gates.

"The four days are over." He muttered under his breath, his grip on the window frame hardened.

This meant the peace was over, and they were about to fight once again. But how would they fight this time? It wasn’t with swords, nor with words.

This fight... It seemed like only Julian could fight it.

"Will you be okay?" He asked, looking at Julian with worried eyes.

Julian kept looking at the Inquisitors, a cold shiver running down his spine.

He still didn’t know what the soul search truly entailed, but as he watched the faceless white figures disappear into the building below, he knew the time for hiding behind Alaric’s shadow was coming to an end.

"I have to be," he said and finally turned to look at Alaric. "I will be."

Alaric reached for his face, caressing his jaw line softly, and Julian’s breath hitched. He looked into the Duke’s eyes and watched him as he leaned in until their noses brushed against each other.

"I will do whatever I can to keep you safe." He whispered. "There is no one whom I cannot afford to make an enemy if it means keeping you safe, Julian. Remember that."

Julian appreciated it. But he wished the situation where he had to make an enemy out of either Empire had not come.

If he makes them both their enemies, where would they run to? Where would they hide? Who would be on their side?

Julian closed his eyes and nodded. Then, Alaric’s lips met his in a tender and warm kiss.

The kiss felt like a last attempt to memorize each other’s taste before the world tried to claw at them once again.

When Alaric finally pulled away, his forehead rested against Julian’s, his breathing heavy. He didn’t speak; the vow was already etched into the hard line of his jaw.

The silence of the tower was shattered by the heavy thud of staff-ends hitting the marble floor outside.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

The doors to the isolation ward groaned open, and—not the healers of Viremount who entered—four Inquisitors of the Holy Empire.

Up close, they were even more unsettling. The white cloths wrapped around their heads were so tight they revealed the sharp ridges of their facial bones, yet their features remained a mystery.

Only their eyes—piercing, pale, and devoid of warmth—flickered through the narrow slits of their cowls.

"Julian Von Astrea," the lead Inquisitor spoke. His voice didn’t sound human; it was a flat, synthesized drone that seemed to come from the fabric itself. "The hour of the Sun has passed, and the hour of Purity shall begin."

Alaric stepped in front of Julian, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. The Inquisitors didn’t flinch. They didn’t even look at the Duke. They simply waited, like statues carved from salt.

"I am coming with him," Alaric stated. It wasn’t a request.

"The Duke may observe," the Inquisitor said. "But the Mirror accepts only one soul at a time. Do not interfere with the light, or the light will consume what it cannot cleanse."

Julian placed his hand on the Duke’s arm and shook his head.

"It’s fine," he said. "We were prepared for this. I am ready, Lucien."

Alaric’s forehead was creased so hard, but they had to ease when he looked at the confidence in Julian’s face.

"Alright," he dropped his arm. "I will be right behind you."