>>6181933He scoffs.
“You spent so many days with Argia Candente. Are you going to make the Amaranthines believe you were not aware of her condition? Besides, it’s nothing but a quirk of her birth. The girl has been sanctioned by the Sun-Birther Herself.”
“That—” she replies rising a finger in warning. “Is for the Amaranthines to decide, who have the believers’ support, much more than a single old Knight who thinks he holds enough wisdom in himself to disregard every rule and codex.”
“And this support comes from your political machinations, does it not?” He sighs, his shoulders falling a bit. “This is all a mistake.”
“Correct! And that is why I am here, Ibardo.” She walks closer, until her bandaged fingers almost touch his black glass weapon. “Admit to the Assembly your guilt. Give them support. The girl is bewitched! She is an instrument of the Adversary, and if not now, she will soon be. Admit to this, and the Assembly will be lenient. You may even get to keep your… weapon.”
At those words he tilts his head, running an old finger through his beard.
“This will bring you no joy, Astoria. Nothing you can do will bring you any closer to the Sun-Birther, it won’t make any of those notches appear on your forehead; no political embroidery will dress you up in the robes of the Sunseeker. It is all up to Her. All your efforts will amount to nothing more than a sandcastle, built on tired sand, ere the tide comes.” A pause, as the woman’s hands twitch. “It is not too late to—”
“You know less than you claim, Master Delebasse,” she snaps, seething in her sudden anger. “What of the heretical cameo, then? I have at least four Priests of Flame and endless more witnesses ready to swear she was wearing one of the forbidden kinds! The ones the Sun-Birther asked us to destroy! If you do not comply, the Amaranthines will force you to disclose where you took it and—”
Ibardo laughs in her face. A deep sound, soft and a bit sad. Stunned, Astoria’s eye would twitch, if it still could.
“Astoria, that was meant as a <span class="mu-i">gift</span>. It was given to me, to pass on to Argia.”
“A gift? Who would possess such an artefact?” She growls. “That you even came into contact with such a thing is tantamount to <span class="mu-i">betrayal</span>. You will tell me who gve it to you, so that we may—”
“Oh, Astoria,” he interrupts her, giving her a pitiable look. “It was Ansàrra.”
[cont.]
