Even the inexperienced Laor could feel the invisible pressure weighing on his shoulders and back.
"Mr. Majiya, I hope you can make the right choice, and even more so, I hope you can set an example." The Civil Guard Officer invited sincerely, "In exchange, you will gain political equality... and protection for your property."
The other party spoke too vaguely, leaving Laor confused.
Old Majiya pressed his lips together, staring into the other party's eyes, delaying his response.
It wasn't until this moment that Majiya Milock truly understood how deeply flawed his old friend's insight was.
Devout? Kind-hearted? Easy-going?
Fayeka must have been blind. This so-called "son of a church serf" named Bard was clearly the most steadfast of the rebels, the least likely to be swayed.
"No need to answer in haste. When the time comes for you to choose, you'll know." The Civil Guard Officer glanced at the sky outside the window, "It's getting late."
