[h3]Polina Laye[/h3][i]Farisian Maid[/i]

[hr]

“Understood,” Polina replied tersely, feeling the pain from every word she spoke. She really needed to get her chest looked at. And certainly not in a lewd way. One minute was not enough when seconds was likely what Lucrecia really had. Truly, the other maid’s misfortune had been of her own design, but it still didn’t sit right with Polina that the maid was going to get diced up for an unfortunate remark… and even more so that Polina was utterly unable to do anything about it.

If she had been in uniform, she likely would have had some type of trinket stashed away to make difference, but an elegant, if slightly skimpy party dress left little in the way of weapons aside from the sword and few knives she had tucked away.

Thankfully, she was surprised to find some unexpected reinforcements, even if she didn’t particularly like it. “Great, the church,” she muttered, before grimacing and regretting the extra words. 

She decided to nod at Cassandre in acknowledgment by way of initial reply. “He’s on… our side… nominally, if he weren’t seeing red,” she cautioned as she leaned on her sword. She held onto the vain hope that all parties would see reason and restraint.