By then, Benedictus had left everyone else behind and was walking toward Rhode.
There was nothing unusual about that. Rhode was the guest of honor at today's banquet, after all, so it was only natural for the Archbishop to take an interest in him.
Except Benedictus did not look particularly pleased.
Although he had rarely appeared in public for a long time, everyone remembered the Archbishop as a humble, kindly man whose smile put people at ease.
He was not merely a powerful priest and a devout believer in the Holy Light, but also a wise elder, someone as close as family in whom they could confide.
But now?
Why did the look the Archbishop gave Rhode bear so little resemblance to an elder's affection for a younger man?
The nobles were rather bewildered.
Benedictus had been perfectly amiable when he arrived, chatting and laughing with everyone. Why had the sight of Rhode suddenly made him so restless?
Had the young mage's earlier display really been so ostentatious that it offended the normally unassuming Archbishop?
But a man of the Archbishop's spiritual cultivation should have been above that.
For a moment, the atmosphere grew tense.
Benedictus paid no attention to the nobles' gazes. He simply walked up beside Rhode and said softly, "Duke Rhode, would you care to have a word in private?"
Rhode was certainly not intimidated by Benedictus's presence.
He met the Archbishop's gaze and replied with neither arrogance nor deference, "Your esteemed Archbishop, whatever you have to say, you can say it here. I happen to have a few questions about the Holy Light that I would like to ask you, too."
Others might not understand, but how could Rhode fail to know why Benedictus harbored such deep hostility toward him?
Only a week earlier, Rhode had