osirian rebecca and macalaure
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He nods to one of the guards, who peels off. "I'm sorry to have frightened you."

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"Um, it's... all right, your grace...?"

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"I was enjoying the song."

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"Baby be quiet, I'll show you the sky, goes on forever, no one knows why..."

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He smiles encouragingly at her and sits back to listen.

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Okay, she'll, uh, kneel in the street and invent verses to "Baby Be Quiet" and sing them to her baby for Prince Masaharta.

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The guard comes back. 

 

"They're missing the baby, at the temple, but not her," he says.

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Shit.

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" - huh.

 

 

- do you want to explain what is actually going on?" he says mildly. "At this point I'm curious."

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"She's mine."

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" - husband didn't want her?"

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"I don't have one of those your grace."

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" - okay. So you - stole your baby?"

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"They stole her first."

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"Do you happen to know anything about the disruption at the temple earlier?"

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"- it was just to get the alarn set off. It's paint."

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He looks at her, up at his guards. " - what happens next."

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"- am I supposed to know?"

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"It's hard to predict how a court would see the packages, your grace. If they were intended to do damage that'd be straightforward, but as they weren't -"

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"It's just littering, I should think."

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She starts trying to take off the robe - she's got normal clothes on under it - without putting the baby down, or looking like anyone might not get their hand bitten off if they tried to take her. She gets one arm out of a sleeve and moves the baby to that arm.

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They continue their conversation. 

"And kidnapping, your grace."

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"And that," he agrees. 

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"And impersonating a priest. And lying to you and to your security."

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"- yes, I guess, those." 

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