[Lobelia can't help but smile wider and wider the further Temenos tips that staff into his chin. Temenos wants to draw a line between them, but any line drawn in the sand is destined to fade with the slightest gust of wind.

What distinguishes them, then? Is it that priestly self-restraint? No, that much is inherent to Temenos, Lobelia thinks, studying him long after he retracts his staff.]

And if death is the payment I must offer up for my crimes?

[Lobelia's smile widens, casually turning on his side to more easily gaze at him.]

Casting your vote for me is no different than handing down a death sentence. My fate may be determined by règle de la majorité, but that simply means you aren't acting alone. The blood would be on your hands regardless.