Ardasa looked over to the kobold priests, their head bowed in reverence. Seeing them now, something in their behavior told her that they were . . . scared, of all things. They trembled, their voices wavered, and she could swear that they hardly knew any of Hetuis' hymns at all. The two kobolds were old, older than Ternoc by far. They must have been in service to this temple long before he was in office. "We pray for time, time and mercy," they chanted, again and again, their voices on the verge of breaking down.

"I believe the hymn goes 'time and just-'," Ardasa said, but was cut off by a glare from an older kobold.

"I suggest you leave this temple," she whispered, fire in her eyes. "There is no justice, not in this city in the least. The king has eyes everywhere, watching and waiting, just waiting for little kobolds like you to step out of line."

"Surely not the Prince Ternoc, at least," Ardasa said, but this just made the old kobold snort.

"One cannot trust the son of evils," the old kobold said, falling silent as Ternoc's eyes drifted back to them for a second. She continued when she saw the eyes move away. "Do not expect fruits to fall far from their trees." She picked up her chanting again, as fearful as it always was. Ardasa stood up, her stomach sinking. She no longer felt clean enough for the gods.