"No."
The single word came out sharper than intended, slicing through the silence of the hall.
Liliana froze where she stood. So did Elder Nimo and Elder Haro.
All three pairs of eyes turned to Luther, whose expression was calm—too calm—but the faint twitch of his jaw betrayed irritation.
Elder Haro blinked. "Pardon, Saint Luther?"
Luther exhaled through his nose, his tone flat. "I said, no."
He straightened, the air shifting around him. "As a holy saint, I'm privileged to follow commands." His gaze slid from Liliana to the elders, cold and unmoving. "But not this one."
The two elders exchanged nervous glances.
Elder Haro cleared his throat. "Saint Luther, the Crown's decree—"
"The Crown's decree," Luther cut in, his tone suddenly edged with frost, "does not extend to the Church."
A heavy pause followed.
