“How, exactly, isn’t this what it looks like?” Irritation creeps back into Emeric’s tone. “Did the cult spring into existence fully formed, just waiting for a prophet when you came along?” “No,” I grunt as I try to pry the sheep off my skirt. “I—” “Did the Scarlet Maiden descend to you in a vision and say you’d die in a cart accident if you didn’t tell five friends about her by midnight?” “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
