Rellana remained alone in the bedchamber at Caria Manor, staring blankly at the moonlight outside the window.
Her sister's words from that day still echoed in her ears. The conspiracies concerning the Albinaurics weighed heavily on her, but a certain marquis troubled her even more.
That Horace had brought the two children over, yet he himself kept running around, researching some "Blood Moon" one moment and handling paperwork the next...
Did he even know that because of him, I... It seemed he really didn't.
She tugged irritably at her hair.
That man was clearly nothing but a bundle of trouble. How could I...
"Your Highness?" came a maid's cautious voice from outside the door.
"It's late. Will you be retiring?"
"...I know." Rellana took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing her tangled thoughts.
Now was not the time to think about these things. The investigation her sister had assigned her was more important.
Over in Lakeside Town, Horace had always been quick to act.
He decided to make short work of the "new Formless Mother sects" that had sprung up from distortions of a single joke he had made.
A faith founded on misunderstanding and distortion could do considerable harm if it spread, especially to women.
But handling it personally would inevitably invite speculation. It would be disastrous if anyone discovered that he was the one who had "misled" them.
So he thought of Messmer.
"Burn them." Horace placed the intelligence on those small underground sects before Messmer, keeping it brief.
"Burn them clean with your fire. If you hear any strange doctrines along the way... just treat them as nonsense. No need to look into them."
Messmer looked up at Horace and nodded, without asking a single "why."
He simply picked up the intelligence, then turned and left the study.