Tea, Cake, and Lies|Darkthrone, New Morilanta

[Darastrix]

Die leaned back a little in his chair and rested his hands in his lap. "Truth," he stated. "Or what passes for it at the time. It tends to go off in so many directions, you can spend ages just following the forks of truth." His eyes crinkled at the edges. "And it's ever a joy to be the bane of the secret-keepers."

[Kender Bard]

Fausta gave a low, short laugh. "How refreshingly unique," she replied. "You must find out all sorts of fascinating little tidbits of information. I myself have not often had leisure time; my father is very strict and sees to it that I am well learned. But I admit a particular fondness to gardening. Nothing too large, of course. Just a private little garden of my own keeping. Not exciting at all, I'm afraid. I'm terribly afraid I'll pass myself off as a bore to my peers."

[Darastrix]

"Perhaps not if they ever have the opportunity to see the fruits of your labour," Die remarked. "I knew a priest who kept a tiny but excellent little garden on a table in his room. Turned his rival green with envy." He paused and tilted his head. "Or maybe it was something he ate. I can never remember."

[Kender Bard]

Fausta actually giggled this time; something she didn't often do sincerely, but it was heartfelt this time.

Oh. She liked this man.

"Do you give personal sermons at the temple?" she asked abruptly. "Perhaps during the holy days? I would love to see one. It seems that whenever I go to the temple to pray, the man or woman speaking is always of a more common rank."

[Darastrix]

"Oh, of course," Die told her. "I just prefer that my congregation put forth a little more effort into attending my sermons than simply showing up. You get more people who actually want to be there for whatever reason instead of just folks to say to themselves, 'oh, look at the time. I'd better attend an Evil sermon so I still look pious enough.'"

[Kender Bard]

Fausta curled her lip. "I cannot agree more. The false believers are an insult to the rest of us." She relaxed her expression to something more pleasant again. "May I perhaps attend your next one?"

[Darastrix]

"By all means," Die agreed. "My next will be the coming Silva, at midnight." He was curious what purpose Fausta had in seeking him out. If her earlier remarks were any indication--If something where to befall my brother, and I become heir to my House....--she might be looking for an ally to her own advancement. That could be amusing for a time.

[Kender Bard]

"Consider myself there unless my parents have reason for me not to go," Fausta told him. "But I see no reason why they wouldn't. I expect it will be a wholly divine experience."

She scaled back the conversation to lighter subjects until an hour had passed. "If you excuse me, your holiness, I should probably resume my duties. I had a wonderful luncheon with you, though."

[Darastrix]

"Quite diverting," Die agreed. "I imagine that even if you're unable to attend my sermon, our paths will cross again."

[Kender Bard]

"I will still do my level best to make it," Fausta replied demurely even though she felt a surge of hope and triumph. The servant arrived to see Die to the door. "Farewell, your holiness. May you walk in the Forces' favor."

[Darastrix]

"And may their wrath devour your enemies," Die replied brightly as he rose. He wondered who that could be in her case. Her brother, the obstacle to being House heir? One or both of her parents? Hmm...maybe an allied family. Who had helped them rise in the ranks, anyway?

Of course, there was always the possibility that Fausta was just a front, a puppet to engage him while an unknown entity pulled the strings and worked through her to some yet unknown end. Ah, Morilanta.

Let Saul play with the Swan in that little spit of land to the south. When it came to information, crows were far more useful.