Far from the bustle of the world, the Church of Vows was especially peaceful that night.
In the center of the church, the enormous turtle Miriel lay on his cushion with his eyes closed, seemingly dozing.
The Black King sat on a bench in a corner of the church.
He said nothing.
He simply sat quietly, looking at the moon outside the window.
Miriel said nothing either.
The turtle and the king maintained this peculiar understanding.
A long time passed.
Miriel slowly opened his eyes, moonlight reflected in them:
"You shouldn't be here right now."
The Black King did not turn. "I know."
"Lady Froesanks will come looking for you."
"Let her. I'm not going back." The Black King had the distinct air of a dead pig unafraid of boiling water.
Miriel sighed:
"You've been skipping work for three days. Every time Lady Froesanks can't find you, she takes her stress out on those clerks... everyone in the Administrative Hall is praying you'll return now."
The corner of the Black King's mouth twitched:
"What's that got to do with me?"
Despite his words, his body stiffened almost imperceptibly for an instant.
Miriel noticed, but did not point it out.
Though he was worried too, it was not about the Scribes.
He was worried that the Dragon Girl would tear down his church while beating up the Black King.
He slowly shifted his body to face the Black King:
"So, why did you come here?"
The Black King remained silent for a long time, considering whether to tell the truth. Should he tell Miriel he wanted to skip work, or make up some nonsense to brush him off?
He stayed quiet so long that Miriel thought he would not answer.
But he finally spoke:
"I sense... rot stirring."
Miriel raised his