He stared at her, confessions boiling beneath the surface of his face, but at last he said, “Nothing,” and, “I’m going to find solace elsewhere in the fortress. Lots of solace.” He plucked a coin purse out and actually shook it at her, as though daring her to disapprove. She knew exactly what he meant, and could not find it in her to castigate him. He was not a priest, after all, and the rules for church knights were laxer. The odd foible was practically expected. What was atonement for, after all?
