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— The established bonds of trust between us cannot but please me, Luciferia. You boldly entrust me with secrets of state importance, keep the business records, and even deliver wall paintings without any knowledge of the mistress. — With a slight smile, Alsira looked at the portrait. — Astarothia, is it? She is quite charming. Let them hang it on the second floor. At this rate, my dwelling is starting to resemble a Sithi cell more and more.
- He-heh! I trust you, my lady, more than anyone! - Clasping her hands in a prayerful gesture and making puppy-dog eyes, Luciferia continued. - But still, I wish to express the hope that Astarothia is not as dear to your eye as I am?
— A drowned artist? A peculiar plot twist. I wish to preserve the integrity of these lands, but turning the population into human farms is a dubious outcome. My lady will have to decide between two fires. Haste will do no good; the capital's authority is strong, and your party's arguments demand a careful look out of duty. Hmm, does your great progenitor know anything about the fall of the City of the Sun or the Estellian massacre?
- Well, you think it over carefully, or else something might happen! You people are such creatures — everything is calm one moment, and the next you're cutting each other's throats over trifles. Wouldn't it be better to secure the support of someone more level-headed and consistent?
As if to confirm what was just said, Alsira's eyes notice smoke rising from the direction of the lord's estate.