"We have all heard about the actions taken by Inquisitor Percivus during my father's declining days," Owain said slowly, choosing his words with exceptional care as he threaded the needle between calculated rebuke and something that even a doddering old fool like High Priest Aubin would have to call blasphemy.
The cathedral had gone perfectly still. Even the knights who had been struggling with the aftereffects of the Stag Feast seemed to have forgotten their misery as they tried to figure out what their soon-to-be Marquis was doing. He was either one of the boldest lords alive to bring up something like this now… or an arrogant child poking an anthill with a stick.
