The Duke's Bride

[Countess Elaina Moorwood]

I smile gently as I stand "one last thing before I leave you....most people would rather live under a haratic than die under a man of god. Scotland will survive all the better from removing the tick that is Rome. Why hold they grow rich and fat and cruel while the rest of us die? Is that not a harasy in its self? Did god not say that the wealthy should give away all their belongings? Did Jesus himself not tear down the temple when it's leaders were greedy and curopt? Ask your self carol who do you worship god or the church?" I say calmly leaving the room and shutting the door behind me

[Carver Amell]

"I don't see you giving away your fine silks," mimics Carol after Elaina leaves. "What a bitch. Come on, we need to go on the run yesterday."

[Bethany]

"What?" Beth asks, having been deeply lost in thought and memory. Marian. What happened to you? How did..? "Wait, run away? What? Where?"

[Carver Amell]

"I don't know, but she's going right to hell in a hand-basket and we can't be here when it happens."

[Bethany]

Beth looks around furtively, then lifts a hand. Cupping her left hand, she draws in a deep breath, then exhales. "Odium et ira, et in excandescentia flore." It's not a good incantation, there's little flow and even less memetic weight, but it's enough for Beth to summon a handful of frothing flame. It only lasts a few seconds, not that such is unusual for her.  She's never had all that much trouble causing something to happen. Causing what she wants to happen to happen? The way she wants it? For the duration and the severity? The less sound about any of that, the less upset Beth would get. 

"Not just her, ma'win," Beth reminds her twin softly, eyes shadowed and tired.

[Carver Amell]

"You're different," says Carol, in a low tone, looking about furtively. "Look, this whole witch-for-god thing sounds like a good deal. Maybe we should try that somehow. Maybe if you pray before every spell or... or something. But this lady? Elaina? She's going to burn, Beth, as soon as the Church catches up to her. I can't risk you getting caught up in that. Who do you think will be next on the pyre after her?"

[Bethany]

Shuddering, Beth carefully keeps her gut reaction off her face. Not I; I'll never let them put me to the fires. I'll make them cut me down first. I won't burn like Novice Jeran did. "I'm not-- Look, I don't disagree, exactly, just... I mean, we thought about running before and... The reasons we can't haven't gone away, Rull."

[Carver Amell]

"Then... then I'll go without you," says Carol, in a low, shaking voice. "I can't do it, Beth, I can't get close to someone and watch her burn."

[Bethany]

Beth recoils as if struck, face going waxen and eyes filling with tears. "N-n-no! I-- yes, okay, we-- yes-- please don't--" Words fail there, the supposedly more confidant twin breaking at the mere idea of being without her soul.

[Carver Amell]

"I don't mean it, I didn't mean it," babbles Carol, reaching out to pull Beth into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry,"

[Bethany]

Beth clings back tightly, shaking violently. It takes several minutes for her to cry herself out, leaving her exhausted and feeling hollowed out. "Sorry," she finally manages to whisper, shame, regret and pain twisting into a slurry that coats the simple word.

[Carver Amell]

"no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I just-- I can't lose you, Bethie."

[Bethany]

"Never ever never ever," Beth swears fervently. "I can't lose you either. Whatever it takes, ma'win. Promise. Always."

[Carver Amell]

"I want to talk to this Garrett before we go. I want to see if... who the hell he thinks he is. Maybe we can extort some money out of him for our trip. Okay?"

[Bethany]

Beth is quiet a moment. A long, awkward moment where the silence gets heavy and pressing. Then she sighs, as it's as if all the strength and fire in her escapes with the breath. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," she whispers, eyes closed. "Maybe that's... We can do this. Together."