I had, in my station as Jurispotence of Aurdwynn, learned to hide my love of the divine. If a Ministry of Antiquities stooge brought me a two-thousand-year-old ceremonial oil scrape and asked me to destroy it as an artifact of unhygienic religiosity, I could hardly scream in anguish, could I? I could hardly stand on my toes and beg for Himu’s sky-swift forgiveness. My mission was to protect the living faith, not its dead relics. So I never betrayed my awe in the face of the sacred.
