Aven could sense the chill running down her spine in expectation of the archbishop's next words. His light-hazel, kind eyes turned darker, as if someone had stolen the light from them. Then, he spoke to her in a low, threatening voice.
"Listen here, Aven," the archbishop began, his mouth barely moving as the words left it. "This incident is perfect for us because we believe that the prince is seeking to harm the church. In order to prevent that, we want a good reason to imprison or execute him."
"Harm the church? The prince would?" Aven muttered in confusion as she clenched her fists in nervousness. "How would he do that?"
The archbishop did not answer her but remained silent as his cold eyes examined her. "He would do it by existing," said the archbishop before rising, circling around the table, and then standing behind Aven. "I had big plans for you. I even wanted you to become the Blessed Consort."
