๐๐ ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฆ๐๐จ๐ง๐ ๐ก๐๐ ๐ญ๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐ก๐ข๐ฆ ๐ฒ๐๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐๐ ๐จ that Wriothesley would not only succeed in the goal set for himself the moment he'd escaped from his foster 'care', but also become the administrator and de facto warden of the prison he'd be sent to following that success it's very, very likely he would have laughed in their face. And then maybe punched it for good measure. Wriothesley didn't have that kind of luck, after all; each win painstakingly eked out on his own merit instead.
Of course he won't claim he's only here out of sheer, dumb luck. The set of circumstances that got him here might've been favorable, but Wriothesley still fought for this. Bled for this. The exiles of the Fortress don't just give their respect to anyone. Plus, the fact that no one topside has caught on to the fact that Meropide's administration changed hands yet...
Though the latter seems bound to change as of today.
" The Chief Justice? " His hands have stilled around his tea, the heat bleeding into scarred skin to the point of scalding as pale blue hues take in Sigewinne's rather fretful countenance 'pon bringing him the news of Monsieur Neuvilette's arrival. Unannounced arrival, at that. He's corresponded with the man before, certainly, all his reports addressed to the Iudex, but Wrio never strictly speaking signed off with his name... he'd thought if the gig ever was up, he would at least have some more time to prepare for what to say. " Thank you, Sigewinne. "
Time to face the music, as it were. " You can let him in. " / @inundatae













