They still expected Steward Josiah from Morkarh, a powerful ally and Drake’s close friend, to enter the library, the meeting hall of the council. Lord Drake spotted Father Giloth across the room. The old man sat in silence in his chair by the window, gripping the staff of his order, which Drake considered to be a security blanket. They never spoke in public, each man notably hating the other. Father Giloth hated his possession of Accacia, his adopted daughter who seemed to arrive from nowhere, but Drake couldn’t care less about his quarrels. At the first meeting since Drake had claimed Accacia as his own, Father Giloth took him aside. “Did you bring Accacia along?” he whispered in the hallway. There was no hiding the excitement in his voice at the possibility of her presence. “That is none of your concern.” He smiled. “She belongs to me, remember?” The old man’s wrinkled face fell into the lines of a frown.
