Quoted By:
“The truth is, Miss Legrasse, that we all strayed from the path a great many years ago. The natural order is a dying beast, breaking down around us with each tiny act of Calamity and disobedience,” Choirmaster Moreau says, gesturing vaguely with her pen in the absence of a cigarette, “I’m not so foolish as to blame it all on the Tomoe. We’re all part of the problem, every one of us. The Godhead laid out a plan for all of us, but we decided that we knew better.”
“I had just one hope – that your family prophecy might bear fruit, and you would call forth God from the lowest depths of the Demesne,” she continues, pointing towards Elle, “I had it all planned out, too. You and Young Master Silvera-”
“Cato Silvera?” you interrupt, scowling at the old woman.
“And why not? He’s loyal, obedient, and he hails from an excellent family. He’d be the perfect candidate,” Moreau waves away your words, “Don’t take it so personally, Master Pale. I’m not trying to attack your masculine pride, or whatever you want to call it. It was never more than a plan, anyway. Miss Legrasse made quite sure of that.”
“But we can still…” Elle protests, “The only thing stopping us reaching the bottom of the Demesne is YOU!”
Moreau doesn’t answer this straight away, simply casting a mournful glance at her fallen cigarette case. Uttering a disgusted curse under your breath, you snatch up the case and throw it down in front of the old woman. She eagerly cracks it open, lighting up a cigarette with a practised flick of her hand. “You’re the problem, Master Pale. I’m sorry for saying that so bluntly, but it’s true. Right from the start, the omens surrounding you were… ambiguous. I saw great potential in you, but also great risk. So, against my better judgement, I allowed you to enter the Demesne,” she recalls, a bitter look settling onto her face, “That was my error, I freely admit that. I allowed myself to be… optimistic.”
She says the word as if it’s a profanity.
“Forgive me, Choirmaster,” Sakhalin asks in his mournful voice, approaching from behind you, “But did you ever approach King Albrecht with these… misgivings?”
“Ah, the faithful retainer. You know Albrecht better than anyone else, so tell me. Do you think he would have listened?” Moreau raises her palms in a vague shrug, “What about you, Master Pale? If I had told you to abandon your mission and never enter the Demesne again, would you have dutifully obeyed?”
“...No,” you admit. Not while Gratia still haunted those white stone halls.
“No. Of course not. You’re just like your father,” Moreau’s lips draw back in a sickly smile, “I did everything within my power to keep him from the Demesne. I sabotaged his projects and sullied his reputation – although he hardly needed MY help with that – but nothing would stop him.”
She sighs. “That’s why I needed to take drastic action.”
[1/2]
