Renata had been wandering throughout town again, looking for some group of merchants, mercenaries, or whatever else existed that traveled long distances and that she could accompany. But she predicted that today's search would be the same as the other days': useless.
However, Renata's predictions had become more unsure today with the rumor circulating around town that Lady Cecily was a traitoress of some sort. Today had potential, if only a tiny bit more.
And now there was a crowd gathering around a girl and a guard. Renata was included in the hundreds of onlookers who found themselves in the right— or wrong— place at the right time.
The girl in the clearing said something authoritative, and the crowd began murmuring. ”... she the Lady Laus? ... some kind of fallout... illegitimate or not... treats politics like a game...”
"I see now!" an aged man behind Renata cawed triumphantly. "Madame Sister has come to Laus to re-baptise Lord Reynert, so he may be pardoned for his terrible sin of having an illegitimate child!"
Renata sighed heavily: she had been followed around today by several religious men who were in awe of her, thinking that she must be an important vassal of the Church of the Preservation of Sanctity to own such an embellished white horse, which Renata had hoped would not attract much attention when she left it hitched at the inn she'd blown most of her money staying at. Should've stolen a brown one instead, she thought to herself, annoyed. She was a fugitive, not a holy vassal, but perhaps she could play the role of the latter for now. She had ignored the men so far, making some of them think that she was sworn to silence, but they still made their conjectures loudly and freely, no matter how absurd they were. "Shut up," she muttered inaudibly under her breath. Shut up shut up shutup shutupshutupshutup...
But the old man and his twats continued, adding to the chorus of murmurs.
"But that would mean the rumors..."
"... if only we men could show such divine forgiveness..."
"... is it true, Sister?"
They still asked her questions even though they knew she wouldn't answer them.
"My men, my fellow men, a messenger of blessed Elimine!" Some of the onlookers shifted around Renata as the fervent old man proclaimed whatever he was proclaiming now, giving her a clear view of the situation in the clearing. That's the first and last time that little entourage will be of any use. Renata resolved to wear a hood or some other less attention-grabbing garb next time she was on the run, similar to how the Lady Cecily in the clearing was now.
And Renata already believed that it was the Lady Cecily. The features checked out: hair, eyes, as much of it as she could see anyway. And the Lady's face was a pleasant surprise: it was not the face of an innocent princess, as the common folk's stories made it out to be. No, it was the face of a young woman who had steeled herself for whatever hardship lied ahead.
"... My man, my fellow ma— aigh!" The old man had made the mistake of getting in a guard's face, and had now been pushed back and lost in the crowd... and now that guard was eying Renata expectantly, between glances at Cecily and the grizzled mercenary who had stepped in as Renata had been idly contemplating.
"I believe you should listen to him," Renata said to the guard who was holding Cecily, approaching the soldier's front as Kethen approached from the back. May as well take a risk. "I am a cleric of the Church of the Preservation, summoned from Thria yesterday, and," her voice quivered as she lied about being summoned, "we do not smile upon such brusque handling of nobility." She knew that the Laus folk knew that the Lady Cecily was illegitimate. But if she could get away with the lie that the church was on the lady's side... well, it could cause a tiny little misunderstanding for the church. And a blow to the church was a triumph.
However, Renata's predictions had become more unsure today with the rumor circulating around town that Lady Cecily was a traitoress of some sort. Today had potential, if only a tiny bit more.
And now there was a crowd gathering around a girl and a guard. Renata was included in the hundreds of onlookers who found themselves in the right— or wrong— place at the right time.
The girl in the clearing said something authoritative, and the crowd began murmuring. ”... she the Lady Laus? ... some kind of fallout... illegitimate or not... treats politics like a game...”
"I see now!" an aged man behind Renata cawed triumphantly. "Madame Sister has come to Laus to re-baptise Lord Reynert, so he may be pardoned for his terrible sin of having an illegitimate child!"
Renata sighed heavily: she had been followed around today by several religious men who were in awe of her, thinking that she must be an important vassal of the Church of the Preservation of Sanctity to own such an embellished white horse, which Renata had hoped would not attract much attention when she left it hitched at the inn she'd blown most of her money staying at. Should've stolen a brown one instead, she thought to herself, annoyed. She was a fugitive, not a holy vassal, but perhaps she could play the role of the latter for now. She had ignored the men so far, making some of them think that she was sworn to silence, but they still made their conjectures loudly and freely, no matter how absurd they were. "Shut up," she muttered inaudibly under her breath. Shut up shut up shutup shutupshutupshutup...
But the old man and his twats continued, adding to the chorus of murmurs.
"But that would mean the rumors..."
"... if only we men could show such divine forgiveness..."
"... is it true, Sister?"
They still asked her questions even though they knew she wouldn't answer them.
"My men, my fellow men, a messenger of blessed Elimine!" Some of the onlookers shifted around Renata as the fervent old man proclaimed whatever he was proclaiming now, giving her a clear view of the situation in the clearing. That's the first and last time that little entourage will be of any use. Renata resolved to wear a hood or some other less attention-grabbing garb next time she was on the run, similar to how the Lady Cecily in the clearing was now.
And Renata already believed that it was the Lady Cecily. The features checked out: hair, eyes, as much of it as she could see anyway. And the Lady's face was a pleasant surprise: it was not the face of an innocent princess, as the common folk's stories made it out to be. No, it was the face of a young woman who had steeled herself for whatever hardship lied ahead.
"... My man, my fellow ma— aigh!" The old man had made the mistake of getting in a guard's face, and had now been pushed back and lost in the crowd... and now that guard was eying Renata expectantly, between glances at Cecily and the grizzled mercenary who had stepped in as Renata had been idly contemplating.
"I believe you should listen to him," Renata said to the guard who was holding Cecily, approaching the soldier's front as Kethen approached from the back. May as well take a risk. "I am a cleric of the Church of the Preservation, summoned from Thria yesterday, and," her voice quivered as she lied about being summoned, "we do not smile upon such brusque handling of nobility." She knew that the Laus folk knew that the Lady Cecily was illegitimate. But if she could get away with the lie that the church was on the lady's side... well, it could cause a tiny little misunderstanding for the church. And a blow to the church was a triumph.