Cardinal Theresa kept her smile perfectly in place.
It was a skill she had honed over decades — the ability to wear grace like armor, to let nothing of substance show on her face while her mind worked through the angles of a problem. She had smiled through assassination attempts. She had smiled through heresy trials. She had smiled while signing execution orders.
She could certainly smile through Mortressa.
'How does she know?'
The question burned behind her calm exterior as she walked alongside her fellow Cardinal, their entourage trailing behind them through the cathedral's great doors. The cool interior air washed over them, carrying incense and the distant murmur of prayer — sounds that usually brought Theresa comfort. Today they felt like a funeral dirge.
