Rebuilt many times, its walls were a patchwork of old and older. Jorge found inconsistencies in its brickwork convenient. Discreetly covered by tapestries, they offered an abundance of hiding places. He'd used them frequently in the past few weeks to spy on Julian and his treacherous band. Many plots had been stymied by the Lords of Valdeon due to the information he'd overheard. He kept watch now as the prefects assembled to bicker again over the future of their country. These meetings were tiring for men of action. Even the eastern prefects, dressed in their colorful plumage, seemed strained with temper. Many times their eyes would shift from the Lords of Valdeon to the bastard prince. A few of the eastern lords — Fausto De Quintaro for one — kept their gaze firmly on the chancellor as he spoke. Those faithful to the Altar would not be enough to stand against Julian’s supporters. Their dark prince sat upon the small dais beside the chancellor. He was a hand's breadth from the king's seat.
