The shop to where Bishop brought us didn't seem like anything out of ordinary to me, and neither did it seem like a place that could fit all of us. But at least we were met with people there, who knew us—and were hilariously astonished by our disguises—and ready to help. How ready exactly, though, was another question.
From what little I saw of Rosha and Risha—the names, now that they were spoken, were familiar from Devourer's words, which only made the situation only stranger to me—didn't seem like devoted worshippers Bishop and his flock were. I didn't dare to trust them, despite Bishop's assurances.
Rosha, the eldest sister, wasn't happy to see us in the first place. No, not like that. She was happy at first—then, when she found out what we needed, and saw my face, she was anything but happy. She didn't like me, had little to no respect for Bishop, and looked at Yvenna so strangely, I had not the slightest idea what was going in her head at these moments.
