“Haelan Fairhrim would like to wash up; she had an unfortunate encounter with a lecherous shitbag.” “What?” gasped Mrs. Parson. “I took care of him,” said Mordaunt. “Couldn’t have him harassing our Haelan.” “I hope you made him suffer, sir,” said Mrs. Parson. “I did.” “Is he dead, sir?” “Yes.” “Send his mother a toe, sir.” “Good idea.”
