Tales and Jann both fell silent. The confessional booth held only the sound of two different breaths.
"She's gone."
Jann's voice came from the darkness.
"I know." Tales answered gloomily.
Several more seconds passed before Jann's voice sounded again:
"Now, can we set aside our prejudices and have a proper talk?"
Tales drew a deep breath, composed himself, and nodded:
"So you didn't kill Moss. You simply learned of his death in advance and kept it hidden?"
"If I really wanted to kill that wine merchant, I would have released him first, then given him a discounted ticket for a ship across the sea," Jann snorted. "Even Judge Brennan couldn't object to that."
Tales was silent for a while longer, then sighed, his emotions complicated:
"Before entering the city on the first day, I told Moss: if he wasn't willing, he didn't have to do it. I could find an excuse to drive him away, and none of what followed would have happened—at least he wouldn't have died inexplicably in prison."
Jann gave a disdainful snort.
"Could you stop being so overflowing with kindness and sentimental sorrow? Instead of pretending to grieve for a scumbag who doesn't deserve sympathy, you'd be better off considering what his death was really—"
But Tales cut him off coldly:
"Calling him a 'scumbag who doesn't deserve sympathy' isn't enough to defend us."
"No matter what Moss was like or what he did in life, over these past few days he was dragged into our struggle and ultimately died because of us. That is something we can't ignore or evade."
Tales turned toward Jann in the darkness:
"This has nothing to do with what kind of person he was. It has to do with what kind of people we are."
But Jann let out another