You are a cleric in the service of a demigod for whom you have the utmost respect. He preserved the knowledge of the ancient dragons, founded their own cult in the capital, and always tried to treat everyone with kindness. People all over the Lands Between call him sweet, merciful, honest – and you knew of this better than anyone.

How could you not know when his loving gaze was always fixed on you, a simple underdog of the Golden Order, even when there were dozens of other people in the room?