Lizaveta noted a quizzical expression on the nun's face. “Sister Arissa,” she said, “do you have something to add to the discussion?"

"Yes, Reverend Mother. This… creature is a Guild Mage. If he survives and you keep him here, the Guild will surely take an undesirable interest in our activities. That might pose a greater threat to us than this Afelnor ever could. You controlled his grandfather, Loras, easily enough; why not ensorcel his pup in the same manner, before he ever reaches us?"

Lizaveta considered her reply for a few moments. She felt angered by Arissa's impertinence, but she did not want to admit to weakness even to an inferior. She knew she had only been able to control Loras Afelnor's actions with the aid of a mighty enchantment, and only then by turning an existing emotion: Loras’ pity for the dying Prelate of his House. His grandson seemed to be forewarned, and he was unlikely to be swayed from his righteous vengeance. She had only managed to defeat Afelnor's unsuspecting friend, Dalquist, through the timely intervention of the dead Sister Madeleine. She had met both mages, and she knew Grimm was already far more powerful than the older Questor would ever be.

She locked Arissa's grey eyes with a fierce stare. “I just wish to see Afelnor's expression when he falls to his knees, defeated, and acknowledges me as his mistress,” she growled, her gaze challenging the nun to call her a liar. “I have no need to justify my actions to you, Sister; remember that."

"Your pardon, Reverend Mother!” Arissa dropped her eyes in the modest manner expected of every nun in the Order; even a member of the Score. “My first concern was for our beloved Order."

"I understand that, dear Sister. I understood your motives only too well."

Lizaveta turned to the expectant nuns, whose eyes were all lowered. “Does anybody else seek to question me? No? Good; we will begin.