Mordaunt waved a hand. “Memories of bygone days. I’m nigh untouchable now. My mark today did make a stabbing attempt—but he only had a spoon.” “A spoon?” “He was eating yoghurt,” said Mordaunt, by way of explanation. “You—you killed someone while they were eating yoghurt?” asked Aurienne. “Yes. It was good yoghurt, too.” “You ate the yoghurt?” “After he was dead, yes. He’d hardly touched it. What? What’s the matter? Have you mistaken me for someone respectable?” “Have you any sense of honour whatsoever?” “No,” said Mordaunt. “Anyway, I came here for a healing, not an assessment of my morals.
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