The room had grown quiet, the earlier tension between them settling into something calmer, almost companionable, as Emily remained seated across from Arlott instead of retreating back toward the cupboard.
"So," she said eventually, breaking the silence, "if every duchy has its own sin, what happens if two people end up carrying the same one?"
Arlott considered the question for a moment, tilting his head. "No idea. Maybe it splits. Maybe it merges. Maybe the system just picks a favorite."
"Comforting," Emily said dryly.
"I never claimed to have all the answers." He shrugged, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Just theories."
Emily studied him for a long moment, her earlier hostility dulled into something more contemplative. "You talk about all this so casually. A curse that killed my husband, ruined my life, and yet you speak of it like it's nothing more than an interesting puzzle."
