[A long and thoughtful pause, broken only by a faint noise of acknowledgment.]
The line is different for everyone, I suppose.
[How many of the Hasmali defenders, templars or mages, would have been willing to cut him down if he'd let them? He doubts Clarence would have hesitated, for all his simpering faux-civility in the years they'd shared a room. He can imagine Philomela running him through with a remorseless spirit blade, with that same you were never anything but a hindrance look he always imagined in her eyes when she would come to forcibly detach Myr from his side and whisk him off for training.
And yet every one of them now, everyone left behind in that tower, if that drunken conversation on Satinalia is to be believed, thinks of him as the Vivienne. Monsieur de Fer, cruel enough to cripple his own flesh and blood and flee into the night without ever looking back. He is the bogeyman of Hasmal now. Who is he to judge?]
I don't know if that's where the hypocrisy lies. But what's done is done, for all of us.
no subject
The line is different for everyone, I suppose.
[How many of the Hasmali defenders, templars or mages, would have been willing to cut him down if he'd let them? He doubts Clarence would have hesitated, for all his simpering faux-civility in the years they'd shared a room. He can imagine Philomela running him through with a remorseless spirit blade, with that same you were never anything but a hindrance look he always imagined in her eyes when she would come to forcibly detach Myr from his side and whisk him off for training.
And yet every one of them now, everyone left behind in that tower, if that drunken conversation on Satinalia is to be believed, thinks of him as the Vivienne. Monsieur de Fer, cruel enough to cripple his own flesh and blood and flee into the night without ever looking back. He is the bogeyman of Hasmal now. Who is he to judge?]
I don't know if that's where the hypocrisy lies. But what's done is done, for all of us.