Sneak Peek (Patreon)

Note: I took out the dialogue options in these to make the text flow better. You'll pick what to say in the game!

-

"You remind me of her," Hadrian admits.

"So, you've mentioned," Salina says, unceremoniously grabbing your hand and pulling it to her.

"Ah!" you hiss when she spreads your pointer and thumb apart, making the cut open.

She gives you an unimpressed look. "You go around fighting at all hours of the day, and this is what makes you cry?"

"I'm not crying," you mumble, holding back tears as she pokes the wound. The blasted bolt took quite a bite of your flesh, but luckily, you haven't lost feeling in your fingers.

Salina starts to wrap your hand in binds dipped in a smelly, greenish liquid. "You obviously want to tell me something about this woman I remind you of," she says, moving the wraps around your palm. They sting a little, but they're pleasantly warm. "Out with it."

Hadrian hesitates.

As you see Salina frown, you rush to add. "She's talking to you, Hadrian," you say. Her handling is already rough; you don't want to be under her care when she's irritated.

"I know," Hadrian answers. He leans forward on the bench, careful not to ruin the fresh, white bandages around his thigh. "Just don't know where to begin."

"From the beginning," Salina says dryly.

Hadrian rubs the back of his neck. "Yes, that's, uh. The right place."

- - -

"Alessa, were you aware Tarek has a daughter?"

Alessa's face goes through an intense journey. Her eyes widen, the whites expanding past the blue, as she stares at you dumbfounded. Before you can so much as blink, however, Alessa's hand flies to your mouth.

Five cold fingers wrap around your jaw as she furtively looks around for any listening ears.

You want to tell her Tarek already knows about Leona, but with her hand clamming on your lips, you settle for an eye roll.

"Is this what you used the relic for?" she hisses, pushing her face next to yours. "This is what had me waiting here like a discarded fool?"

You slowly lean away from her hand. "No one asked you to leave the room."

Alessa's teeth flash.

You swallow a chuckle. "Look, Alessa," you say, leaning in again to whisper near her ear. "Don't you see? I wanted to know what Mist knows."

It's your turn to look around, but Lance is locked into conversation with the two guards, and Hadrian is still in the back room with Salina. You're alone unless the walls have ears. "Mist implied Tarek doesn't know he knows. He also made it clear he wants me to tell him."

"He plays games," Alessa says with disgust. "'Tis what he always does."

"So, we shouldn't tell Tarek?"

"Of course, we shall."

You hum. Alessa looks down at your joined feet, a pensive furrow on her brow. "... did you know?" you ask again. "About the daughter."

"I did," Alessa admits. "I know of Leona. I was one of the appointed to... it matters not."

"It matters yes."

"Must you speak in broken Common?"

"It matters clearly?"

"Better, but unrefined still."

You roll your eyes for a second time. "Just answer me, woman."

- - -

*if you killed Matilda

"Certainly."

It's just one word, but the tone gives you pause. It's subtle and faint enough that you could overlook it, tell yourself you're imagining it — if this wasn't the third or fourth time it had happened.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

Lance's eyebrows shoot up. "Pardon?"

"You heard me," you say, stepping in front of him. "You have anything you want to air?"

"What makes you say that?" Lance smiles, his gold tooth peeking beneath his lip. "We are but acquaintances, are we not? Allies, now. I play nothing but the part."

You don't buy it. "It is a part," you hiss out. "A badly acted one. You keep making these snide comments, and only a blind would miss how you look at me. If you have something to say, bard, just come out and say it."

Lance's smile slowly dies. "Or else?"

You lower your chin, eyes training on his face, but you watch his hands. They're still for now. "What do you think?" you rasp in a low, dark murmur.

*if Corruption>= 2

Your palm flares, singing.

"You ask what it is I have a problem with," Lance says back, voice like a sizzle, and steps closer too. His facade falls, finally, and you see the disgust reflected in his grey eyes. "And it is this, murderer. I have a problem with this."

Your lips curl in a feral smile. Here it is.