"Asabel…" Oliver said, meekly, sending a prayer off into the heavens. "I know I didn't want to make it political for my sake… But I might have changed my mind…"
"If you're praying, better to ask the Dark Gods, I'd say," Ingolsol said. "At least we give something in return. You just have to make a worthy sacrifice."
"Ah, because we've seen such hope delivered after those kinds of sacrifices, haven't we? After all, Francis seemed a perfectly happy man, did he not?" Claudia replied with rare sarcasm.
"Wench," Ingolsol said. "You're tolerable when you're your do-gooding self. If you start layering sarcasm on top of that, I might defy all known laws just to tear you to pieces, even if it means the death of all three of us."
"That was a crude blow, I apologise," Claudia said, "though I do stand by the sentiment. Even in jest, one should not say such things. Such bargains would not even benefit you, Ingolsol."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure…"
