In that open air, the nobleman stood and watched. His narrowed eyes had long since left the woman speaker, he'd stopped listening...stopped focusing on her as his attention turned to the crowd. A hand deftly sliding into his pocket, as long white gloved fingers curled around the Inquisitor's ring he carried. The metal felt colder than before, and now more than ever did it call out to him.
"How many..." He whispered to himself as hues drifted from one face to the next.
"Forty-seven souls saved...forty seven heretics given salvation over torture...And oh still how my hands ache..."He whispered softly to himself.
At the thought eyes went back to Evangline, and the bile in his stomach rose up into his throat.
"Forty Eight....the man who wore this ring, the man who was looking into her....and now here she is, outwardly parading her beliefs. How many more will I have to smother from this world to now keep this fool safe?"
He reached up touching over the stubble on his chin. How unkempt he had become. There was a time were Vairement Chevalier carried himself far better. The ponce and fop had been worn down, and the fatigued madman clawed at the facade to carve it's way free.
"I've....things now. Things to tend to...the little one, the Courier...How can I ever balance this all.."He muttered, as his tall, red coated frame made it's way through the crowd. It was within moments that he was looming behind the woman questioned Evangeline. His lips drawn into a tight line as vision bore down on her. And yet at the moment he said not a word to her, or outward in opposition to Evangline at all.
"How many..." He whispered to himself as hues drifted from one face to the next.
"Forty-seven souls saved...forty seven heretics given salvation over torture...And oh still how my hands ache..."He whispered softly to himself.
At the thought eyes went back to Evangline, and the bile in his stomach rose up into his throat.
"Forty Eight....the man who wore this ring, the man who was looking into her....and now here she is, outwardly parading her beliefs. How many more will I have to smother from this world to now keep this fool safe?"
He reached up touching over the stubble on his chin. How unkempt he had become. There was a time were Vairement Chevalier carried himself far better. The ponce and fop had been worn down, and the fatigued madman clawed at the facade to carve it's way free.
"I've....things now. Things to tend to...the little one, the Courier...How can I ever balance this all.."He muttered, as his tall, red coated frame made it's way through the crowd. It was within moments that he was looming behind the woman questioned Evangeline. His lips drawn into a tight line as vision bore down on her. And yet at the moment he said not a word to her, or outward in opposition to Evangline at all.
