The guests have all been seen home safely. The patrol of her father's men has ensured that no further undead remain anywere within several miles. Most of the rest of the house has gone to sleep.

    And here Octavia stands in her father's study, arms folded behind her back, head slightly lowered.

    Duke Bartholomew's back is to her, his arms folded behind his back as well. He's facing out the window, at the fields beyond their house, and the city of Crossingway beyond that. There's more light in here than there is outside, but she can't quite get a look at his face from the reflection. She can't gauge his mood. It makes the silence much more intimidating.

    "...the timing on this was too coincidental," he begins. He's keeping his voice carefully neutral. Octavia looks up at the sound, a little surprised at the topic he opens with; but after a second or so to gather her thoughts, she nods. "It was. A horde that unusually large, just happening to be close enough at just the right time to be drawn in by a party... We have to suspect foul play, don't we?" she asks, hoping to confirm it's the right answer. "We do," Bartholomew agrees simply. She pauses a moment, then asks, "Who do you think was-" Before she finishes the question, he cuts across with a simple, "I don't. We have no evidence to go on, so conjecture now could lead us astray. The right conclusion later, is preferable to the wrong conclusion sooner. Never fall for that trap, Octavia Alicette."

    Chastized, she bows her head slightly. "Of course, father."

    There's another, uncomfortable silence.

    "...how long?" her father asks. The question stings a little. "Six years," Octavia replies finally. Six years since she awakened her holy rune. Six years she's been hiding it from him. Her father is a sharp man; the dots connect almost instantly. "...the carriage. Then Brandt knew. Did anyone else?" The girl nods her head briefly. "My friend Eliza from the academy. That's it. I..." She hesitates, waiting to see if he'll stop her; but he's listening. "...I didn't want to trouble you, father. I know what it means. I didn't... I didn't want to put you in the position of lying to the king, or other nobles."

    There is a long pause, and for the first time she can remember, her father sounds... old. "I raised my daughter entirely too well. And now we're both going to have to deal with the consequences." She's not sure how to feel about that.

    "I'll have to send a communication to the dwarves. We'll need your mageblade re-engraved, possibly even reforged. Of course, there will need to be an official presentation to the king." Pause. "I won't be able to help you with that. We can at least tell him that you only just awakened your-"

    Octavia surprises herself by interrupting her father. Almost unthinkable, but her lips are moving before she realizes it. "No, I won't lie. I won't make you lie. If the king discovers the truth, it will be worse for both of us, father. I'll tell him the truth. It will hurt my reputation, but I'll recover. And for now... I'm already appointed to an official position. I at least have an excuse to delay my acceptance as Holy Knight."

    Bartholomew is silent for several long seconds. "...You're treading a very thorny path, Tavia," he says, his voice soft. "I can't protect you if you make a misstep." He doesn't need to add, 'so please be careful'. She can hear it in his voice.