Every time the Holy Relic pulled a new trick out of its metaphorical hat, Roya's confusion cranked up another notch, noticing how it forced them to participate in a bad soap opera.
But she, being THE information broker—capital T, capital I, capital B—wasn't the type to sit back and twiddle her thumbs waiting for answers to just drop into her lap.
Oh no.
The second that projection flickered into existence, she'd already sent one of her people sprinting off to Templar, the ones from whom she borrowed the Holy Relic.
She didn't care how that cut-off, holier-than-thou religious faction managed to get their hands on something as insane as a Ten Commandment—that was their problem, not hers.
What she did care about?
Why the Hell none of this was in the fine print when she borrowed it.
...'Borrowed.'
Alright, so maybe it wasn't a traditional loan.
More like she acquired it through a strategic long-term leasing agreement.
