The color drained from Velara's face.
The fury didn't vanish, it was still there, burning behind her eyes, screaming to be let out. But the Goddess's decree was louder. Every word of it. "Find a path where my faithful can endure." "You will have served me better than any martyrdom ever could."
If she drove him away from the table, there was no table. If there was no table, there was no coexistence. If there was no coexistence, every cathedral in every city he conquered would face potential ruin.
The Arch Priestess who had regenerated severed limbs and tanked a fire detonation and cleansed venom from her blood swallowed her pride so hard Quinlan could hear it.
"…I apologize," she forced through her teeth. "For raising my voice."
Each word sounded like it was being extracted with pliers.
Quinlan smiled behind the helmet. "Hmm… So be it. Apology accepted."
